


When The Sun found the Moon

by Crosses_and_Qoutes



Category: Monster High
Genre: AU, M/M, Slight mention of torture but nothing graphic, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crosses_and_Qoutes/pseuds/Crosses_and_Qoutes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romulus hadn't meant to take the hunting party out that far. Jackson never meant to be discovered. But he couldn't leave the wolves to die, and Romulus didn't have much of a choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So, I started this little story after seeing the pairing first on a couple of stories by Calligraphy, who inspired this. Did not expect it to go over 7,000 words, but here it is. And yes, the title is extremely cliche, but it fit. It's also one of my favorite songs. So there's that. Hope y'all enjoy the story, and please, give me some feedback! I love hearing from y'all!  
> Edit:  
> OK, as I started typing up the sequel, I realized that in order to move forward in the story, I was going to need to cut out some parts in the first chapter I had already posted and and add it to the second part that I was writing to keep the story fluid. Which then became a third chapter.  
> This expanded into over a 25,000 word fanfic. I have never done any fanfic of this length before, but it just kept going as I kept writing. So, yes, I had to completely rewrite the first chapter, but I have uploaded the entire story in apology for making you read it again. If I'm honest, I'm not totally satisfied, there's a few things I could probably change, but overall I'm happy with it. Let me know what you think, and thanks!

The first thing that registered was the numbness in his sides, phantom sensations of metal striking the fragile bone.   
They had managed to escape, somehow, but not far. Not far enough to where the Hunters still couldn’t find them.   
“Boss…Boss, up ahead. The Switch Wood.” Brocko whispered softly, leaning heavily against Dougey, heaving for breath. He nodded silently and helped as much as he could, every brush of grass sending fire into his blood. But they made it inside, deeper into the trees. The more coverage they had, the better. The sun finally off of their backs, the coolness of the air finally hit his skin, and he tried to keep his shivering in control, to no avail.  
Weakly, he pulled Dougey inside a soft pile of leaves at the roots of a large Oak. It wasn’t much, coverage practically none, but they couldn’t go any further. Romulus’s legs gave out and he dropped beside his cousins.   
It didn’t feel like long at all. It could have been five minutes. Hours. Romulus’s internal clock had been shattered weeks ago. Whoever was coming didn’t try to hide themselves, almost purposely stepping on every twig and leave he could, softly murmuring to themselves.   
Romulus growled softly, the intensity growing as they got closer, hackles quickly rising.  
“Whoa!”   
A teenager, not much older than him, stumbled into the cluster of trees, eyes growing wide at the sight of the three. Dressed in a gray sweater and bright yellow shirt, he was definitely no hunter.   
“What happened to you?” He whispered, kneeling into the dirt and lowering his body, trying to be less intimidating. Romulus growled in response, trying to stand. He was dying, no doubt. But that didn’t mean he was going without a fight.   
“Hey, hey, shh, shh, I’m not here to hurt anyone, ok? I recently…acquired a house about 5 miles north of here. I was checking the area for traps. I have a truck, I could take you guys there…help fix you guys. Big Man over there isn’t going to last much longer, we both know that.” The boy said softly, trying to coax the wolf calm. Romulus was soothed a bit, and lowered his guard.   
“I’m going to go get it, ok? I’m going to get the truck, and we’re going to get you guys safe.” He mumbled, softly moving back before Romulus heard the soft rumble from a ways off. Brocko jumped, teeth snarling, but Romulus assured him with a quick lick to his check.   
Dougey stirred as he was carefully lifted into a padded cage, snarling at the human.   
“Enough,” Romulus barked, “We don’t have a choice.”   
The gray wolf was quiet after that, and after Romulus was gently pulled into another cage securely tied to the back, it rumbled to life and drove away, farther from his home, farther from Salem than any of them had ever gone before.  
He fell asleep to the lull of the soft turns and engine, not waking when the cages were unloaded, not stirring as he was gently placed into a mattress hastily dragged from its antique frame.   
But for a brief moment, a gently hand was stroking his ears.   
“Where are my manners? Jackson, my name is Jackson. Don’t worry alpha wolf, you’ll be running again in no time.”  
The wolf fell asleep after that, and Jackson got to work.   
He hadn’t been anticipating this when he went searching the property. He really had been combing the property for hunting traps. The cages were in case he had found anything caught in said traps; bring them in to help treat them.   
But this, this was far beyond the work a trap could do. This had been torture.   
He pulled a new notebook out, writing out his thoughts as he assessed the wolf’s condition.  
The largest, a smoky gray male with dark blue markings, had screws drilled into his back and shoulders, some dangerously close to the spines. And then, of course, the piece of metal slate that was drilled into his thigh, still leaking. “I’m going to have to get you some anesthetic before I can even think of pulling that out…” he muttered, continuing his assessment. Malnourished, dehydrated, and his coat was stained with urine and feces. Lifting his eye lid and shining a light in, the pupil blew up and returned to its silted form when removed. Ok. So at least he was still getting some response to his brain.  
The smallest wolf, a white male with a single blonde stripe down his body and through his shoulders before ending on his tailbone. Jackson didn’t need to touch his legs to know that the bones underneath were shattered, the muscle torn to ribbons. He could see several places on his thighs where he had been cut deeply, and injuries caused by fighting other dogs. Also malnourished, but more hydrated than the others, his coat had more blood on it than anything else.   
Finally, the silver male with darker brown and gray marks, the one that was still awake in the woods. Clearly the alpha, if the other’s behavior was anything to go by. He looked the worst of the bunch, the same signs of neglect along with three broken ribs, bruises covering his skin like a rash. His fur had been hacked to pieces and brands and burns covered his skin as well, still oozing puss and blood.   
“You’re going to need quite a bit of recovery. At least a year’s worth, if not more and I’m pretty sure that you don’t want to be cooped up here for that long…first things first.” His eyes narrowed, leaving for a minute before coming back with a rather extensive medical kit and a handful of syringes. Washing his pale hands in the bathroom he pulled on some gloves and filled one of the syringes with a heavy dose of pain killers.   
“Ok big guy, promise not to bite me, I promise to get these infuriating pieces of metal out from your body, ok?” He pinched the skin and plunged the needle in, waiting a moment for the medicine to kick in before he set to work quickly pulling the large slab of metal out before taking to the smaller screws, softly petting the fur down as he searched for more. He tried to sooth the soft whimpers as he dabbed the wounds with alcohol and antibiotics, stitching where necessary and giving him another minor dose before he was done.   
The blonde was easier, getting the anti scar medicine and splints and setting the legs and feet before bandaging them heavily in white and neon yellow tape. He also got a dose of the anesthetic.  
The silver wolf was in desperate need of burn ointment, but he needed to fix the ribs first. Laying him on his side, he injected him as well before setting the ribs and clavicle bone and wrapping them up. The burns were the worse of it, and he applied the burn ointment in gentle circles as he worked, nearly covering his whole body before he was done. He was going to have shave him down before the hair would grow back correctly.   
“I am sorry about this,” He said as he pulled the razor out and shaved him down to the bare minimum of fur, “You’re such a handsome wolf too.”   
He got up, tossing the gloves into the bag with the syringes and other discarded supplies. “Let’s see if I can’t speed up the process up. Give me some time tonight, and I should have it ready in a few days. Keep your strength up.” Jackson nodded to himself, setting an alarm on his phone for every two hours to come check on the wolves later.   
“You know that your gonna have ta give ‘em names at some point, right?”   
Jackson turned towards the mirror, seeing a smiling blue face staring back at him, leaning against the clear surface like a wall.  
“Well, yes, and a bath but not tonight. Maybe you can help me with it though.” He said, walking down into the basement where a pristine lab waited, the soft sound of whirring machines working a familiar comfort. The only reason he was wearing sweaters in the middle of summer was because he was constantly down here.   
“Jackie, you know that I’m not good at the whole science thing.” His mirror image huffed.   
“No, not with that. I trust you around my equipment about as much as your trust me with yours. I meant with their names.” The blue teen smirked, shaking his head as Jackson lost himself in his toys. He needed to make a new track list for that gig that was coming up this Friday, though they were going to have to come up with a new schedule now that they can company around.   
“-have to increase their muscular cell reproduction and increase the strength levels in the wolves themselves. Have to create some kind of bone strengthening or increase the cell reproduction. Too fast and it can damage the tissues, too slow and it’ll be pointless, so I’ll have to find a good balance between the two…” 

*break*

It took longer than he would have liked, but he finally emerged from the lab again with a smile, three syringes full of a blue looking liquid filled. It was tested, proven, and ready for the wolves. He laid the syringes on the table and grabbed the bowls full of raw meat, ignoring the smell. Slowly, his nose was getting used to the tang that came with it.  
“Hey guys,” he called out as he opened the door to the guest bedroom, “Got your breakfast.”   
All three of the wolves had stirred for the first time around six o’clock this morning, though they didn’t move much. He set them down as close as he could and started handing the handfuls of meat to each wolf, none of them strong enough to pick up their heads yet.   
“Alright guys, good news. I got it finished.” Jackson said, pulling the syringes out and carefully setting them down and pulling on a pair of gloves. “Platinum, you first.”   
The silver wolf didn’t give any indication, but didn’t move as Jackson injected him with the medicine.   
“Then Halo,” He said, waiting until the smallest wolf was eating before he did it.  
“And finally, Titanium.” He declared, making sure that the wolf’s eyes followed his hands as he gave him his dose. It wasn’t that Titanium was scary, simply not as trusting as the other two maybe. He was well aware that Platinum put up with him because he had no choice, and Halo just genuinely looked like a really sweet wolf. He smirked as the wolves head started dropping, the drowsiness in the drugs kicking in.  
“Ok, sleep that off and I’ll be back in a few hours. That is the one bad thing about this medicine is you’re going to be sleeping a lot, but it’s not like you can do much else anyway.” Giving a quick pat on Halo’s head before walking out.   
“Romulus?” he muttered, trying to look over to his leader.  
“It’s ok, Brocko. We’re safe here for now.” He moved a bit closer, putting his cold nose onto his shoulder.  
“What happened? And who is Halo, is that supposed to be me?”   
“The ki-Jackson, Jackson just gave us the nick names to put down in his journal. Tracking our progress or something, I don’t know for certain. I’ve been out as long as you have.”   
Brocko looked down at his legs, the splints firm and the bandages not too tight. Well, at least Jackson knew what he was doing. They had been on the run, the Hunters, that cabin…he shuddered, moving on in the memory to the escape, resting by the tree, and then this. Some stranger’s house with mystery medication that made him tired as hell. He yawned, moving a bit closer to his cousins and falling asleep. The drugs coursed through their veins and started their task, the chemicals stitching together broken bones like nothing. A few hours was taking weeks off of their recovery. 

*Break*

Jackson didn’t inject the medicine for a few days, testing their strength and healing, trying to gauge the rate. But Romulus could already feel the results, small things that weren’t even broken before. His teeth felt stronger, sharper, accidently nicking the human on a few accounts. Dougey was sleeping most days, his medicine taking twice as long to get around his massive body. But he could piece together that whatever Jackson was injecting them with, it wasn’t sold at any store. He had created this, though he didn’t know from where.   
The door opened and his silver fur rose a bit. Jackson came in every two hours to check on them and to give water. It was barely past the halfway point.   
“Easy Platinum!” an excited voice said, removing his bright red jacket and laying it on the bed. “My house too. Can’t I come see my new guests?”   
He was a monster, no doubt about it, his pale blue skin complimenting his purple stripped pants and plain black and white tank top, a spiky looking tattoo covering the temple on his right side of his face, bright fiery looking hair standing out like a beacon in the old fashioned room. His house? From what he had been able to hear, Jackson was the only one that lived in this entire place. When did this guy get in?   
“Ah, look at ya. Jackie was right, y’all are just downright pretty.” He said, sticking a hand out for him to sniff. Jackson’s scent was clean, almost overly so, with an undertone of rain and dust, familiar and comforting. He’s contained more heat, like a burning fire, more adrenaline. Like he was constantly running.   
“Name’s Holt. DJ Double H, if you wanna get more precise.” He smirked, looking over the rest of his pack. “Dang, Jackie mentioned you guys were getting better. But if this is better, I’d hate to see what you came in with.”   
He growled lowly at that.   
“Ah, c’mon, didn’t mean nothin’ by it, just sayin’.” He said, gently making sure that the place was clear of marks before petting behind Dougey’s ears, the big wolf melting into his touch. “See, knew it.” He leaned in closer as if telling a secret, “The big ones like him? Always softies. Can’t help themselves.”  
He snorted, laughing in spite of himself. Dougey really was a sap, even if he would never say it.   
“Just coming to let you know that we gotta leave a few hours. Holtster still had to pay the bills and he can’t do that by sitting at home, but the Gig is close, be back in a couple of hours, tops.”   
He brought over food bowls and refilled the water, making sure they were comfy and even laying some extra blankets out.   
“No offense dog, but you kinda bald, so I imagine that you gonna get the chills way worse than the other two, so just, I don’t know, pull ‘em over or something if you need him. Be good and go the fuck to sleep.” He smiled at his joke and walked out, locking the door just in case. Wolf’s be crazy, and he had to be sure they didn’t make a brake for it or nothing. Though it didn’t look like they were moving for a long time.   
“Jackson, you sure that booster of yours is working? I mean, they ain’t looking too hot.” He muttered, looking into the mirrors that they had set up along the entire house.  
“They really are, just not physically. Not yet anyway. It’s still going to take some time before they look better, but the medicine is mainly for the internal stuff.”   
“Fair enough,” he responded as he began packing up all of his equipment. Somebody there was going to have to help him set up, but it’s not like he could ask any family, now could he?   
“Keep watch ok? Make sure that nobody follows you home. And don’t bring anybody home either!” Jackson yelled.   
“Why not? You did!” Holt laughed, listening to Jackson fume inside their head before locking up and mentally preparing himself. Any gig was still a good one, especially for anybody who accepted his ‘face paint’. If anybody knew the real truth of what they were, they would be as good as dead. 

*break*

It was Jackson who came again the next morning, around eight o’clock, medicine in hand and food as well. He normally arrived at six, and they were starving.   
“Sorry guys, my brother decided to have a late night last night. Give me the killer headache to deal with…” he grumbled, glancing toward the right of the ceiling. This would be their third dose, and so far everything had been promising. After a little over a month, they were somewhat alert and able to eat on their own, though not stand still. No, their bodies were still too broken for that. But he could see that the scars on top of the skin and the stitches that he had put it were already ready to be taken out. He decided to wait for the injections, letting them eat first.   
“Ok Dougey, since it’s mainly you, do you want your stitches taken out while you’re asleep, or would you prefer to be awake?”   
The gray blue wolf pricked his ears up, raising his head slightly in defiance to sleeping even more. Awake it was. Platinum gave a soft warning as Dougey’s eyes followed his hands in the medical kit.   
“Thank you Platinum, but I don’t think that Titanium is going to hurt me. He’s a gentle wolf after all. And gentle wolves don’t bite their doctor’s.” He offered his hand and petted him for a moment to get him to relax a moment before pulling at the threads. Yes, they were looking much better. It didn’t take long, and he have himself a gently shake, giving Jackson a small grin as he rolled his shoulders back.   
“Yea, yea, first one out of your stitches. That just means that you’re going to be the first one to get your medicine too, since I’m here.” He said, making sure that he watched as the injection was plunged in. Halo didn’t like to watch, opting instead to look at Platinum, who only winced at the pinch. This would knock them out for a few days at least, depending on where the medicine began working.   
“Ok buds, keep it up. You’re doing great.”   
Romulus had to get word to his family, to the clan. At least let them know that he was alive. He couldn’t remember what day he left, or how long they had stayed at the Hunter’s cabin, but he knew that they had been here for at least a month.   
Dougey moved, shakily standing.  
“Dougey, no. You need sleep.” He ordered, moving from the bed.   
“After everything that’s happened, you expect me to just let you go off on your own anymore?” he huffed, finally standing to his full height. “Besides, who’s going to carry your furry ass back to the bed when you fall over?”   
Romulus snorted, moving towards the door. Jackson had been leaving it cracked lately, his hands laden with food and syringes. Nosing it open, he glanced around the hall and started softly padding across. There had to be a phone somewhere. Something he could use to make contact. Hell, smoke signals would be fine at this point.   
But as he looked around, he realized that this would be more difficult. The silver Lang wasn’t sure, but he was almost certain that there were no mansions in Switch Wood. Yet, he was clearly standing in one.   
A two story building, the stair case had been closed off with a wall of dining room chairs, their seats facing the decrepit stairs. He could see that it hadn’t been touched; still smelling strongly of dust and grime and rodents, but the down stairs had been cleaned. The living room had been opened up, a fire place roaring in its spot while a wingback was curled into the corner, a stack of books almost as tall as himself piled beside it. There was also a beanbag chair, CD records and an old cd player resting on top, the headphones dashed half-hazardlessly into the center. The place was pristine, but empty. No phones, no radio, no TV.   
“C’mon, let’s try down the hall.” Dougey said, padding down its length. Clearly, they were in a guest bedroom. A peddler room, as it was sometimes called, because of its location, but it was close by. Most of the rooms were empty, some even locked, but near the kitchens were two other bedrooms.   
The left one was clearly Jackson’s, the walls painted a cheery yellow with gray and white accents painted into it. The furniture was clearly from the house, the ornate bed frame and wingback matching the rest of the antiques. The walls were lined with bookcases, scientific journals and books, and other academia. He tried seeing if there were any text books, try and get a sense on what side of the wood they were in, but there weren’t any. Not even an elementary year book. Shouldn’t Jackson be in High School? There was a desk, organized with stacks of papers in little trays and pens laid out. The journal that he had been writing in wasn’t here though, though he could see the notes for the formula that Jackson had been using on them. He nicked it quickly, carefully sliding it into their room before going to the room on the right.   
“This one is definitely Holt’s.” Dougey declared, eyes wide at the sheer amount of color. The walls were red and splattered with yellow and orange, much more cluttered, though still a reflection of Jackson’s. Monster energy drinks cluttered the desk, papers thrown into mishmash and an overflowing trashcan. The furniture here was minimal, leaving space for a large DJ station, clearly professional but definite signs of travel. The bookcases here were cluttered with records and manuals, music sheets tacked onto the sides.   
“Alright, let’s go back. The medicine is starting to kick in, and I don’t want Jackson to know that we can move around yet.”   
Dougey nodded, helping his alpha back to the bed before hiding the paper underneath the bed. Hopefully Jackson wouldn’t be able to see it when he came to check on them. Romulus sighed though. No phones in either bedroom, and, interestingly enough, the only radio was in Holt’s personal room. Nowhere else in the house was there a place to listen to music.   
And, more interestingly, where were his guardians?  
“Don’t know Boss. I mean, it’s clearly just him and Holt here, though it never sounds like they’re both here. Maybe too different?”  
“No. No I’ve heard him talking to him before. But I’ve never heard the other reply….”   
Dougey didn’t say anything, though he felt Romulus’s unease as he fell asleep. If Jackson was hearing voices, and lived here on his own, what did that mean? Why was he alone? And what was he giving them? Was Holt just some elaborate persona?   
But Romulus’s mind was elsewhere. At least 16, living on his own wouldn’t be that weird he guessed, but this place was condemned. And the way that Jackson and Holt sometimes sneaked around was a clear indicator that they weren’t supposed to be here. So why stay? They were going to have to get a better look around the house. But his legs couldn’t hold him anymore. Jackson had to go somewhere during the day where he couldn’t hear, somewhere not in that bedroom.   
He lay down and surrendered to his unconsciousness, letting the medicine take over.

*break*

Nearly three months later, Halo was the first to completely heal, getting his cast removed and taking a few shaky steps before plodding around the room.   
“There we go!” Jackson said excitedly. Just like it was supposed to. He finished writing down for Halo’s progress and forced him to lie down again.  
“I know you’re tired of sleeping, but I can’t concentrate on Platinum if you’re walking around.” He said, massaging between his shoulders before moving onto Platinum’s burn cream. It had been enhanced, just a little bit, to assist with the medicine more. His fur had started growing faster, covering the scars. The only down side is the silver wolf was beginning to scratch at them.   
“Ah, c’mon Platinum, don’t make me put you in a cone. You can’t nip at them like this.” He sighed, applying another dab to his neck before capping the tube. He could see Halo and Titanium snickering into their paws, Platinum glaring all the way.  
“Ah, you know that I wouldn’t. We just got to find something…oh! Be right back.” He said, sprinting out of the room.  
“Romulus have your tried-“  
“Yea, I can’t shift back either.” They’re bodies weren’t in great order, sure, but they should have been good enough to shift by now. But nothing worked. It was troubling, to say the least.  
They were not wolves. They were werewolves. Had the experience with the Hunter’s traumatized them so badly? I mean, the nightmares were expected, but to be stuck in this form because of it? No, no that wasn’t happening. He loved his wolf form, it was strong and fast and beautiful. He was never more free than this natural form. But his two legged form was just as natural, just as freeing. He needed both.   
Dougey sensed it before he did, growling as somebody knocked on the door.   
“What the hell? Who knows that Jackson is here?” Brocko asked, curling in on himself a bit. Romulus said nothing, hiding behind the bed frame. If somebody was coming, he would be prepared for them.   
There were voices, angry ones. Yelling at Jackson, accusing-accusing him of harboring wolves. How the hell had they learned about them? Jackson didn’t go anywhere! Holt had only had that one gig though, and a few smaller ones. Something, no, somebody hit the ground before they all heard it. A bellowing roar before the sound of a chair slamming into the wall, scaring off whoever had been there.   
The door slammed open, and Romulus prepared to pounce.  
“Don’t you start!” Holt yelled, ushering him back onto the bed before marching to the bathroom, slamming the door closed.  
They didn’t need sensitive hearing to know the conversation being held.  
“Jackie, what the hell! You told me that those guys…what? Are they the ones who have you that black eye? Don’t you-“The facet was jerked on, splashing against his face. “This one, I’m not an idiot ya know…Why would they want the wolves? Does this have something to do with that fancy medicine you made them?” There was a long pause. “Jackie, if you think that that’s what they did why not do something about it?” A longer pause, and then Holt started to chuckle. “You are one twisted son of a bitch. Alright. Alright, Imma let you do this. But be careful? This is both of our body; I’d like to keep it in one piece? I got to work on a new mix of mine in about an hour, anyway you can-yea, yea that would be awesome.”   
He opened the door and knelled down to pet them, still shaking slightly with adrenaline.   
“Ah, you guys are walking! Doing a hell of a lot better, that’s for damn sure. Hey, let’s get out of this lil ol’ room huh? I know Jackie was saving it for later, but after all that commotion, I think y’all deserve a treat, huh? C’mon!” He jogged out the room, Brocko bounding along as the other two followed.   
“Rom, what the-“  
“Later.” He said softly, “I’m going to need some time to think.”  
He quickly looked through the hallways that Holt led them down, catching glances of doors, some opened. One particular door, the one leading to the basement, smelt strongly of bleach and acid, the sharp tang of chemicals stinging his nose. That must be where Jackson is most of the time. And he came out every few hours to check on them, clearly interrupting his hard work.   
“Alright, here we go!” Holt said, spreading his arms wide. While Dougey and himself had already seen the living room, Brocko had yet to, and started sniffing around.   
It had been cleared out of all the furniture except for anything low to the ground. Couches and chairs were located periodically, and several homemade toys were scattered around. A sort of treadmill was off in the corner, and the chairs, previously beside the fire place, had been moved back to make room for three furry bodies.   
“Lots of more room to play huh?” Holt said, collapsing against the rug with Brocko shaking a stuffed bear between his teeth. Romulus took a short hop onto the couch and Dougey moved to some of the antlers that Jackson had collected in the forest. Bones were bones, and they were good no matter what form he was in.   
“Jackson had one more thing…think it was upstairs. Hold on.” Jumping up from his spot, he leaped through a door off to the side, and that’s when Romulus saw it. An Office, hidden in secret by a window looking panel. It was covered in whiteboards and papers, books help open in metal contraptions, but, more importantly, there was a laptop. Laptops meant there had to be some sort of email on there. Not the quickest way, but he nosed in, trying to see if there was a phone somewhere. The outlet held a charger, so there had to be one somewhere.   
“Romulus! No sir. Not in there.” Jackson ushered him back into the living room. “I’ll clean up in there a bit and then put a bed in there. You want your own place, that’s fine. But not right now.” Something cotton slipped over his head, and he glanced down to see a purple cotton sweater, covering his legs and torso. It didn’t reach his thighs, but it covered most of the places where it itched.   
“Maybe this will work. I can’t do anything about your back legs, but maybe the sweater will serve as a reminder? I really don’t want to put a cone on you, Platinum. No alpha should ever be degraded like that.” Romulus was loath to admit it, but the sweater was soft and warm, and clearly Jackson’s by the smell of it, though he wouldn’t be able to use it again after the burn cream soaked into the threads. He stared up at Jackson a moment.  
Now that the makeup was gone, it was clear as day. A healing shiner around the left of Jackson’s blue eyes. He nudged his nose with Jackson’s cheek, trying to look inquisitive.   
“Oh, this? I, um, some guys have been scouting the house. They finally decided to actually talk to me and wanted to know if I was keeping some wolves here. I tried to lie, but I’m guessing they saw through it. That was a couple of days ago though. Demanding to take you didn’t work earlier, as you can tell from Holt earlier.” He said, referring to the broken chair still lying in shambles in the entry way.   
“Don’t worry though. I’m not going to let them take you. You guys are safe here. And if the medicine works, you’ll be able to drag them down next time.” He smirked. He picked up the office a bit before dragging one of the dog beds inside. If Platinum wanted to stay here, well, he wouldn’t reject the company.   
Brocko opted to stay and play with Titanium while Romulus followed him inside, though he left the doors open in case one of the others decided to come in.   
Jackson would admit, with a bit of shame, that the silver wolf was his favorite. He’s quiet authoritative nature fit his stature, even commanding the biggest wolf that Jackson had ever seen. And that was saying a lot, considering his line of work. They wouldn’t be here much longer, two more doses at most before they were to their full strength again, though Jackson doubted it would take two. He was being just a little bit selfish though, and keeping them for as long as they would allow it.   
He sighed, sitting down at the laptop. Speaking of allowance, he was going to need to give something to Mr. Stevenson in order to get him off of Jackson’s butt. He had been hounding the boy for a scientific paper for months now, but Jackson simply didn’t like writing them down. At least, not in the format that Stevenson liked. He ran a hand through his dark hair, making a mental note that he needed to bleach and dye his bangs again. Stevenson hated it, it made Jackson notable in a crowd, but Jackson liked it. Besides, HE wasn’t going anywhere now-a-days. Only Holt entered the public eye anymore, and only at parties. Besides that, they couldn’t exist.   
He sighed, rubbing his shoulders and cracking his neck.   
“Hey, don’t look at me with that tone of voice. I can be stressed out if I want to.” The wolf paused, thinking a moment before jumping up on the chair and giving his eye a soft lick.   
“Hey, my eye is fine. Don’t worry about it.”   
But the wolf pulled him down with his teeth, leading him back into the living room before nodding towards the floor.   
“Ok?” He sat down, only jumping a bit as the wolf pushed his shoulders down, curling against his stomach and making himself comfortable. Titanium, confused but willing, followed suit, curing into the nook of Jackson’s legs, followed by Halo nosing his neck.  
“Hey, that’s cold…”he muttered half-heartedly. But sleep quickly took hold of him and he fell unconscious.   
“Romulus, what are we doing?”   
“He makes us sleep when we’re hurt. So I’m making him do the same.” He refused to pick his head up, keeping his muzzle tucked into Jackson’s chest.  
Brocko and Dougey shared a look before sleeping themselves. There was a lot more than they’re alpha was choosing to give, but they would have to work with it for now.   
They noticed that Jackson was spending much more time with them, though he sometimes came out from his lab looking frustrated and frazzled out, a deadness in his eyes that made Dougey worry.   
“I don’t know why I keep doing this.” He admitted softly into Romulus’s fur once, after shucking off a burned lab coat. “I’m sixteen. I should be at a school, doing sports or something. I should be a normal teenager. But I’m here. I’m here in this condemned house, experimenting with dangerous chemicals and taking care of three wolves. Stevenson said that we were too smart. That we shouldn’t waste our time with school. But I miss people. I miss people, Platinum.”   
That night, Platinum nearly howled with frustration, still stuck in his wolf form. Unable to shift, unable to speak, unable to do anything remotely human.   
They didn’t want to leave. They wanted to stay with Jackson, to get him out from the accursed house. But it wasn’t an option they had. Jackson had declared them fit and healed, and was releasing them today.   
“Now, I know that you guys didn’t live in the Switch Woods before. I would have known about. But there’s another patch of woods a few hours out where other wolf packs are. That’s where your families would be, more than likely.”   
They climbed into the back seat of the truck, except for Romulus, who insisted on the passenger side. Dougey could see that Jackson was doing everything in his power to keep from crying as he drove, rambling about all or nothing at all.   
“You guys made it easier to live in that house, and I’ve got plenty of pictures to remember you, so don’t worry too much. Just don’t forget about me, ok? I would say come visit, but I’m kind of afraid for you to travel this far.”   
Finally they reached the edge of Salem forest, and Jackson cracked the doors open.   
“Ok Titanium, you take care of them. Especially Platinum, something tells me that he doesn’t always take care of himself.”  
“Like your one to talk.” Dougey muttered, even though Jackson couldn’t understand him.   
“Halo, you be good, listen to your alpha. Take care of Titanium; he doesn’t know how to loosen up.” Brocko snickered, smirking at Dougey as he grumbled.   
“Platinum…” Jackson muttered, hugging the silver wolf close. Romulus whimpered silently, sprinting out to the wood before Jackson broke. The cousins followed suite, catching up to the silver Lang quickly. The purple sweater was still hugged to his frame, its deep purple flashing like a beacon in the forest.   
“Romulus!” Brocko barked.  
“Were coming back for him!” He said, sprinting faster. The sooner he could shift back, sooner he could turn back into Romulus Lang, the sooner he could actually talk to Jackson. Like a proper monster. The sooner he could get him out from that house and into somewhere warm and safe and protected and pack.   
And then they heard it. The metal crunch of two cars colliding dead on, a holler of victory.   
“We’ve got ‘em now boys!”   
The Hunters.   
They hit Jackson. Rammed him in his truck while he was defenseless, waited until they were gone to punish him for helping them.   
Romulus’s eyes went red, howling with rage. 

*break*

Argent felt it. A deep tremble in his bones, fury consuming him briefly before it fled, leaving him breathless and clutching the table like a life line.  
“Argent?” His wife said, leaving the steaming pot of chili.   
“Ramona, they’re home.” He whispered.   
“What?”   
“Ramona, our boy is home!” he yelped, leaping out the door and shifting into his wolf form, quickly followed by Xanthe and Atlas. They would have felt it too. There boys were home. Finally, his son was home.   
But he was angry. Rage was curling in his vision, even now. What could have set Romulus off like this? He was normally a calm wolf, disciplined and precise. As expected of a future alpha. He knew better than to let himself go like this.   
They approached the edge of the wood, the sound of gunfire and snarls filling the air. Atlas rolled his shoulders back, eyes narrowing. Dougey wasn’t doing much better, acting out to his alpha’s emotions. Normally, he balanced Romulus out, and Brocko balanced him. Which meant that all three of them were in a rage.   
The smell of burning leather and rubber rammed into their senses first, followed by the sight of two mangled cars, clearly done for, the metal hood of the jeep crunched into the seats. A group of Hell Scream’s hunters were shooting, fear etched on their faces as they faced the rage of the werewolves.   
Romulus was nearly unrecognizable, nearly into his full moon form, howling and snapping, picking up entire trees and hurling them into their pathetic hiding spots. Dougey, his smoky coat like a quivering thunderstorm, literally biting their guns in half, roaring into the sky. For them. For Pack.   
But it was Brocko that caught his eye. Standing over the body of a teenage boy, clearly out cold from the wreck, trying to pull him onto his back. The blonde wolf caught sight of them, jumping at the sight of his Dad.   
“Xanthe! Get Brocko. I’ll see if I can get them out of it.” Argent ordered. Xanthe crept a bit closer, easing his presence into his son’s feral state. “Atlas, we’ve got to try and calm them down, before they kill them.”  
But Romulus was beyond reason. He threw his father aside when he tried to intervene peacefully, unsatisfied that the Hunters had literally pissed themselves in fright.  
“Romulus!”  
He couldn’t pin him. How could he not pin he’s own son? Somehow, Romulus’s strength had increased dramatically. Or his rage was making the pain he was feeling into nothing. Eventually he shifted into his bipedal form, figuring out that he wouldn’t be able to hold him down.  
“Romulus.” A voice shouted, finally getting the wolf’s attention. Argent snapped his head to see the human awake, his eyes boring into Romulus’s. His son, proud and mighty and powerful, bounded to him, his size shrinking down to his wolf form. The Hunter’s were silent, rather dead or simply passed out he couldn’t tell. The silver wolf heaved for breath, his eyes wild.  
“Jackson.” He whimpered.   
“Titanium. Drop him.” He demanded, looking toward the tower of fur. Dougey rushed to him, sniffing for injuries.   
“I’m ok. I wasn’t even in the truck yet. I’m ok. And you got yourselves hurt again!” he exclaimed laying his hands on all of them.   
What the hell? Why weren’t they shifting to their proper forms? The sounds of ambulances were fast approaching, Sandra screeching into the dirt. He looked toward Jackson, making a final sniff before sprinting to her as fast as he could. It was a bit of a struggle to get them to the ambulances, but after Jackson said he would meet them there, they complied.  
Argent said nothing, only just noting the shaking in the boy’s hands, the paleness of his face.   
“You didn’t know they were werewolves.” He stated more than asked. Jackson shook his head, the shaking increasing.   
“I didn’t know. I didn’t know…oh shit. Shit…” He broke after they left, Atlas leading him to their car. He should have gone into one of those ambulances. Argent handed him his bag, his pale hands clutching to the fabric for dear life.   
“Dearest, can you tell us anything? Where you found them? What happened?” Sandra asked after a bit, turning towards him in her seat. He had been deathly silent as they drove, but she could hear his heart rate, too quick and panicked.   
“Switch Wood. I’m staying-I-the mansion…I don’t-they were…tortured I think, I just thought –The hunters…”  
He flipped to a page in the book, handing it to her. A simple red and black shield outlined with gold, a tiny gold tower stitched into the lower right hand corner. Hell Scream, the bastard. This was his family shield. His hunting parties must have gotten a hold of Dougey and the others during their hunting party. But Switch Wood? That was nearly six hours away. Why would Romulus have led them so far away? She flipped to the beginning page, Jackson’s initial report of their injuries.   
“Is this…how you found them…”she whispered. His eyes were fixed firmly to his shoes, but his silence said everything. The way it was written was clean, organized, and the notes started to blur in her mind. This was way beyond her understanding of science. There was something about an ‘enhancement formula’, and the boy’s progress on it. That was as far as she got before they stopped, handing it back. 

*break*

They staff checked over Jackson as they came in, and besides a few bumps and bruises, he was going to be fine.   
“Wait, um, you’re going to find some unusual chemicals in their blood. That’s my doing.” He said, pulling one of the techs aside and hastily explaining the formula before handing over the vials to be tested over. He assured them that it was safe, though he wouldn’t say how he knew. He looked so small sitting next to them, mind racing a hundred miles a minute. Atlas glanced worriedly.   
“Pup?” he said softly, easing his grip on his shoulder when the boy jumped. “Let’s get you some food, ok? It’ll be a bit before they come back with any results.” Leading him away from the cafeteria, he got a sandwich and some chips. They were safe for him to eat, right? Everything else was a Monster specialty, so it was one of the few options on the board. Jackson had curled into himself, mind lost as the large werewolf placed the plate in front of him, urging him to eat.   
“I’m going to be in so much trouble. They’re going to know. HE’S going to know. Oh Stars. Oh Stars…”   
“Kiddo, why would you be in trouble? What it looks like to me, our boys are ok because of you.” He assured him.   
Jackson shook his head adamantly.  
“No, not that. I don’t regret that. I’ll pay the consequences for that. That tech and his team are going to break that formula apart and they’re going to figure out who I am and be angry that some little human upstart was dabbling with Monster affairs where he should have kept his fleshy nose out of and-“  
“Whoa! Hey, who’s angry? I’m not. I mean, yea, I’ll admit that it’s a bit of a surprise that a sixteen year old can do science that advanced, but you’re not going to get in trouble for helping others Kid. Ok? Just, deep breaths, ok?” He said, rubbing his back.   
“Not with you…”   
He was past consoling though. Atlas sighed, leading him back into the waiting room and sitting him down on a chair, leaving the food in front of him in case. He shook his head as he squeezed his wife’s hand.  
“What’s going on?” Layla asked.  
“He’s terrified. Whoever he answers to, I don’t think it’s a parent, he is terrified of him finding out.”  
“Finding out what?” she insisted.   
“I don’t know.” He shook his head, keeping a close eye on him though. The way he was acting wasn’t right.  
The Doctor came through the door then, motioning for the parents to come forward. Closing the doors behind them, he begin the briefing.   
“Ok, we finally managed to get them back into their bipedal forms and get a rough idea of what happened.”   
“Why couldn’t they shift in the first place?” Argent interrupted. Dr. Lupen shook her head.   
“Romulus had to take them a bit out of the grounds in order to get food. He was over ambitious, wanting to bring home a big buck home to you and your pack. But that meant getting closer to the borders than preferable. They got captured by Hell Scream hunting party where they were taken to a cabin and...Well…tortured, until they were able to escape and made it into the Switch Wood, where Jackson found them.” He pulled out a vial of blue liquid. “This is what saved your boys. Created by Jackson himself, they were treated with this enhancement formula, able to dramatically increase muscular and skeletal cell growth in werewolf bodies, as well as dramatically increase strength and stamina.”  
“A preventative to make sure they could fight back next time.” Layla said, looking toward her husband. Stars, how much could they’re son lift now?  
“One of the side effects,” Dr. Lupen continued, “was drowsiness. Your boys were asleep for a majority of the time. But, something Jackson could not have seen from his formula is that it kept them in that one form until the chemicals were fully out of their system. The doses apparently last around 12 hours, and depending on the damage, can stay in the body for days on end.”  
“The boys never realized how much time had passed, and Jackson couldn’t have known the side effects because he thought they were simply wolves.” Atlas murmured.  
“He was releasing them.” Argent realized. “He was releasing them back into woods with known wolf packs in it, hoping they could find their way home.”   
Dr. Lupen was silent for a moment, letting the information soak in before she dropped the bomb.   
“It’s because of Jackson that your boys aren’t dead or paralyzed.”  
Argent’s head snapped up.   
“Romulus was burned in several places, branded in more and several broken bones. Those brands? Unseen. There isn’t one scar on that boy’s skin. Not one. His fur will take some time to grow, but even that has been accelerated into an unexpected rate.”She said, referring to the Journal. “Dougey’s spine had been drilled into; several places where scarred muscle tissue should be are showing smooth in our X-ray scans. He shouldn’t be able to lift his own head right now. Brocko had been placed in a dog fight of sorts, bleed out, and his legs shattered when they were done with him. His shattered shins alone should have taken over 7 months to heal, and that’s not even mentioning therapies.”  
“He was walking fine!” Xanthe exclaimed, squeezing Sandra’s hand.  
“Thanks to Jackson. He has accomplished something amazing here; we could apply it to a vast number of fields, make advancements unheard of before. We need to talk to him though. According to his records his guardian isn’t present right now, so we will have to figure something out. You’re free to see your sons, but just for a few minutes. There’s still a lot of work to do tonight.”  
Argent shot off towards Romulus’s room, but Atlas paused. “Doc, he won’t be in trouble right? I mean, he’s pretty scared right now…”  
“No. Moon above no, why? Has he said anything?” She asked.   
“He mentioned a guardian of sorts. Terrified of him finding out, though I don’t know what.” He said, moving to Dougey’s room.   
She nodded, wondering if he was in a troubling situation at home. He was a brilliant scientist, promising for sure, but to be terrified of his guardian? That wasn’t a good sign. She checked herself over before entering the waiting room, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.   
“Jackson?” she called out. The human was gone, an empty plate where he had previously been. Shit. He had snuck out while she had talked to the family. Well, he couldn’t have gotten farther. She set her nose to the air, catching his scent before darting forward to the doors. No, no he wasn’t far at all. His thin frame was leaning against the wall, desperately waiting for a cab she guessed.   
“Jackson?” Dr. Lupen said, quickly catching him as he made a break for it. The boy was hyperventilating.   
“Let me leave. I need to leave!” He shook her off.   
“Jackson, why do you need to leave?”  
“You don’t understand. My name’s in the system! You have me in your damn system! He’s going to find out! I’ll be lucky if he lets me stay in the same damn country, much less state! I can’t exist! I can’t! You’ll take him away!” The stress of the day collapsed on him, unable to keep it together and his knees buckling into the concrete. “Nobody wants to deal with psychotic bipolar teenager. Nobody could handle the both of us. Nobody…” She held him as he sobbed, carrying him back into hospital. What was going on? And what did he mean by bipolar? He certainly hadn’t mentioned it on his file.   
“I want Platinum.” He pleaded. “I want my wolves. Please. I want my Halo, Titanium…”   
“Alright. Alright dear.” She whispered. Argent gave her a confused look as she laid the human in an empty bed between Dougey and Romulus. He was exhausted, limply falling asleep.   
“What…?” Dougey asked, leaning up in the bed.  
“Do you know who his parents are?” Dr. Lupen questioned. Dougey shook his head.  
“I don’t know. Romulus said that his talked to a Mr. Stevenson a few times, and he was always really jittery afterwards. He usually had Holt take over after those phone calls, and we would relax with him.”   
The brown wolf glanced at him. “Who is Holt?”  
“Well, um...Boss?”   
Romulus, at some point had moved out of his bed and maneuvered himself next to Jackson, not noticing Ramona’s face as he lay down.   
“Holt’s a Monster, but he’s sharing a body with Jackson. They share a mind as well, but we don’t know what he is exactly. Definitely not human. Even though Jackson is.”   
There was an awkward pause. What did that mean for Jackson and Holt, for one to be human and the other Monster? What did this situation mean, and was there any way to get in contact with the mysterious Stevenson whom Jackson is so scared of? There were so many questions, and so many unknown answers. Argent, who had remained silent up to this point, finally spoke up.  
“Here are the facts.” Argent stated, catching everyone’s attention. “This boy has saved our son’s lives, but he is afraid for his own. He kept our sons safe, fed them, housed them, and healed them. We repay the favor. He stays with us, eats with us, and is protected by us, until we are sure that he has a safe place to go to and away from this threat on his life. Understood?”


	2. When the Moon Hid the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson is safe in with Romulus's Pack, and after taking care of some business, ready to settle down and just be a teenager. But new discoveries are made, and Jackson just may receive one more blessing before the day is done.

“Name?”  
“Jackson.”  
“Last Name?”  
“…unknown.”   
Jackson fidgeted, feeling his hands trembling slightly as his heart rate increased. This was unreal. His wolves, his three wolves were not, well, wolves, but werewolves! They were all Werewolves. That had taken to getting some used to, and honestly, he was still surprised when they stood, still more comfortable when they were in their familiar fluffy forms, it was something that they were helping him with. But that was no denying what they were. Monsters, they called themselves. And there was more than one species. Hell, he was giving a missing persons report to a Vampire!  
It occurred to him that he’s heart rate might be too loud then. It certainly felt like it. Officer Platelet gulped and he felt his fear grow.  
“Relax kid; I have a bit more control than that!” He laughed. Jackson nervously smiled, a bit more comforted when a large furry paw rubbed in-between his shoulder blades. Thank goodness that Atlas was here.   
“The main thing is to check the system and see if he’s in here, right?” He asked, trying to move the process along. He liked it in here about as much as Jackson did.   
“Of course, last thing is to get a DNA sample and pictures, and we’ll be all set. After that we can start matching descriptions to Jackson’s and see if we get anything.”  
Jackson insisted on taking his own blood, expertly injecting the needle and pulling the syringe back. It bothered Atlas that he was so easy around such equipment. He knew for a fact that Dougey didn’t like needles, he still had no idea why he had trusted Jackson with a task like that every week, but there was no denying that it happened. He was taken back to the camera room after that.  
“So…Dougey and the others are ok?” Officer Platelet asked as he filed the last into the electronic database.   
“Yea, yea better than ok. Cause of that kid.”   
“Which reminds me…” He trailed off, getting Atlas’s attention. “There’s going to be one more thing before you can get him registered for school.”  
“Look, I know that he’s college level-“  
“He doesn’t have a high school certificate.” Officer Platelet interrupted. “The child can’t enter into college, even if he could afford it. You’ve got to get a certificate there before he can register. I think there’s a placing test that they can take at Monster High, if you talk to Head Mistresses, but he’s got to get that first before anything. And even then, I’m not sure that college would be the best option for him. I mean, he’s been cooped up for so long, and socialization is kind of important at this age…I’m so sorry, I’m rambling.” He paused, clearing his throat.   
“No, no it’s ok. Argent said something similar. Kid’s ok around Dougey, and the other two pups, but around any of the others he’s just kind of awkward, fumbling. You can tell that he has no idea what he’s doing. Almost looks like he’s trying to change into someone else.”  
Jackson finally came back out, a wide eyed police officer leading him to Atlas.   
“Alright Jackson, let’s head back. I think the wife is making spaghetti.”   
They drove home in silence, the radio in Atlas’s car busted from a rare show of temper a few years back. They never got around to fixing it, but it never bothered him. Didn’t like that pop stuff that was invading practically every station anyway.   
Jackson stretched again; he’s face straining against some sort of pain.  
“You ok? You’ve been doing that all day.” Did he need to go back to the Doctor’s? Humans were much more fragile than werewolves.   
“No, no, I just…need to find a radio, or an IPOD. Soon.”   
What did that have to do with anything? Atlas parked the car, and as if on cue, Dougey rushed out to Jackson, sniffing over his clothes and hair.   
“Calm down Tita-Dougey! I’m ok. Honestly, you think anything’s going to happen with your Dad with me? Seriously?”   
That was the other thing. The boys were attached, to be expected after living with Jackson for what the estimated 3 months, but this was excessive. They should have gone back to their usual selves by now, Dougey should have returned to his usual stoic self, and he was, for the most part. But if Jackson was around, he was so different. He was more open, much more affectionate. Jackson didn’t encourage it, but he certainly didn’t dissuade it, still slipping into the old nickname from time to time when Dougey was being too rough with his siblings or ate too fast.   
Brocko bounded out from the backyard, tackling the human to the ground. Right, today was the official celebration of the pup’s miraculous return home. Well, they weren’t having spaghetti.   
“Ok, so it isn’t just Brocko that does it?” Xanthe came up from behind, kissing Sandra on her cheek before she went on ahead.   
“Brocko?”  
“Yea, anytime Jackson comes over to help with his Chemistry or Math, he does the same thing. Granted, he’s grades are doing great! Jackson really knows what he’s talking about-“  
“I should hope so.” Atlas murmured.  
“But if they get done early, they’ll go outside and play. Even Becka has insisted on a nick name of her own. If Jackson comes over, he’s like a puppy all over again. I mean, I get it, they’ve developed significant bonds because of what happened, but…”  
“We don’t know how much of it is bond and trauma.”  
Both wolves whipped around, ears bowed slightly.  
“Argent!”   
“It ok,” he assured, stepping a bit closer into the pair. “But it’s a subject I’ve been wanting to discuss. Besides, we need to talk about how it went at the station.”   
He made some kind of indication to Ramona, who nodded slightly, leading the boys away from the house. Up the stairs and down the hall was an office where Argent kept news and records of the entire family for the histories for future generations. It was a time consuming task, especially with a pack as large as theirs, but it was a privilege for him. One that he was slowly moving into Romulus’s paws.   
“Ok, Argent, you know that the boy would never hurt them, right?” Atlas said, eyebrows furrowed as his alpha sat down in the tall leather back chair.  
“Of course not, I’m not worried about that. But he said some things at the hospital that gave me some concerns, issues that haven’t been addressed.”  
“Like what?” Xanthe sat down, loosening the jacket around him.  
“He called himself a ‘psychotic bipolar teenager’ and made a run for it when he’s name was put under the hospital’s computer system. And there’s the fact that we have yet to meet these ‘brother’ of his, and why would need to take him away.”   
That’s true. In all of the chaos of trying to get the boys caught up in school and settling them back at home, it hadn’t occurred to either of them.   
“And there’s the Mr. Stevenson who he is still scared of. He didn’t relax the entire time we left pack grounds, constantly checking over his shoulder and sticking close to me. Whoever he is, he’s got the kid paranoid.” The gray wolf added.  
“Romulus said that they shared a body, but I still don’t understand that.” Argent muttered, hands folded under his chin.   
“A voice in his head or maybe an alternate personality or something? I mean, if I was alone for that long, I’d probably make me an elaborate imaginary friend too.”  
There was a pause as they all simmered on it, though another topic hung in the air between them. The bonds that Jackson had created, it was clear that Romulus’s was more than just friend, even if the two boys had yet to acknowledge it. Romulus was protective and affectionate with Jackson, the same way that Ramona and himself was sometimes. He wouldn’t mind if they did get together, Luna knows that he’s son was always a bit of a lone wolf, not good for a future alpha, but he wanted them together for the right reasons. Not because he had Stockholm Syndrome.   
A scream echoed in the backyard. Rushing down, Argent quickly took in the situation.  
An accident. A boy, blue, how in hell was he blue, was on the ground, looking dazed with a pair of headphones blasting around his neck. Becka was clutching her chest, trying to get her erratic heart rate down.  
“Ah, Jackie. Jackie, what in the he-world?” he corrected as he saw smaller wolves, looking small and infant. That language was definitely NOT ok for little ears.   
“Holt!” Dougey smiled, helping him to his feet. “Happy to finally see you.”  
The monster of a wolf was standing on two legs and a leather jacket and looked very much like a certain Titanium, but that couldn’t be because Titanium was a wolf.  
“I told you not to…” Halo chided, a familiar set of blonde ears pulled back in the night air.  
“Um, s’cuse me.” He said, rushing past the group and barreling through Argent.  
“Jackson!” He knocked against the mirror. “What happened? Because clearly, I’m missing something!”   
Jackson materialized in the mirror, looking a bit frazzled himself. He hadn’t expected that either.   
“I left the memory on your desk. The most important parts are in there, so it shouldn’t take too long. I was going to talk to you about it tonight, but I couldn’t find an IPOD with your music in it, and we haven’t gone back to the house for our stuff yet.”  
“No, no, I can tell that you were going to talk to me, this surprised you as much as me, just-just let me get to speed ok? Um, Platinum! Damn, that’s not even your real name is it? Can you just, talk to them or something?” The fiery haired teen slid into the couch and slid down, sinking deep into his sub-conscious.   
Argent glanced at his side leaning against the railing.   
“That’s Holt.”   
As if that explained everything.   
“I thought Holt would be some sort of personality change. When you said monster, I thought you meant in attitude! Not an actual Monster!” Argent fired.  
“No, we meant actual Monster. Like I said, we don’t know what either of them are, but they are. He took care of us just as much as Jackson. The only thing we could figure is that music triggers the transformation, but it has to be a specific type. Which reminds me, can we borrow that IPOD for a bit? Holt kind of can’t exist without it.”  
Becka handed the charger over, peeking over the silver wolf’s shoulder to the sleeping monster.  
“Is that a tattoo?”  
“Nope, birthmark.” Brocko added, catching a Frisbee before bouncing off.   
Well, this certainly changed the game. Xanthe shook his head.  
“What the hell kind of birth mark is that? And was it registered in the police station?”  
Atlas shrugged. He hadn’t been paying that much attention, but the kid didn’t have any previous records prior. They would have to check for a Holt now.  
“Yes, I did.” Holt came waltzing out, smiling broadly. “Since everything makes some sense, Imma need your actual names. I wasn’t going through that whole file when I smelled food out here! Is that barbeque? You got the hot stuff right? DJ Double H liked it HOT!” He grabbing the headphones from Romulus and securing them in his pocket before running out into the game of fetch that Brocko was in.   
Yes, this changed the game quite a bit. 

*break*

Argent had insisted on talking to Headmistress Bloodgood and arranging something a little special before going up to the school. Jackson had gathered all of his research from that Lab, along with some personal belongings of his. The two boys had never had to worry about the furniture or anything else. It had always been set up for them when they showed up at a new location, rooms filled with the essentials and ready of work. Holt only packed a few clothes and the DJ station, promising to keep it as quiet as possible, and in the basement where he could work all he liked. Jackson’s lab would be impossible to move, but he had known that from the start. He just needed his research. Argent had tried glancing over it when he had fallen asleep at the house one night, trying to understand what was in that formula, but he couldn’t make heads or tells of it.  
“Alright Jackson, here we are.”  
The school building seemed less intimidating in the sunshine then it did with storm clouds above it. The castle like design was tall, its gray brick made of the strongest material possible, it black accents contouring its sharp corners. The windows, for there were many, always gave the impression of scales climbing down the walls, the belfry tower crowning the top like the gaping mouth of some sort of mighty beast. A Dragon with maw opened wide, waiting until August again.  
He led the human to the Headmisstress’s office, pleased to see she was still in her best even with the school year out.  
“Hello Jackson, a pleasure to finally meet you! My name is Head Mistresses Bloodgood, your principal when you attend Monster High. I trust that Mr. Lang has explained that you need to take a small entrance exam before we begin and see where you stand?”   
“Yes Mamn.” He nodded.   
“There is something else,” she added, making a motion with her hand. “Dr. Frankenstein will be taking a look at your previous notes and experiments. Just to get a better understanding of you and your areas of interests.”   
A large human looking monster came out from the chair, he’s frame easily towering over Argent’s. The stitched together body parts were in various forms of colors, though the theme seemed to be a dark mint green. He’s bright white lab coat shone in sharp contrast to his skin, his stitches blending in.   
“Wow. And I thought Atlas was tall.” Jackson murmured, covering his mouth when he realized what he had said. Dr. Stein laughed though, booming in the office.  
“Well, not the usual reaction, but not unwelcome either. I look forward to looking over your notes Jackson.”   
Ms. Bloodgood led him away, leaving Argent and the doctor.  
“You’re free to come with me, if you’d like. I’m sure you would like to know what exactly went into your son’s system after all.”  
He walked away, not bothering to wait to see if the wolf was following him. But the gray wolf came behind him as he went into the lab, tables cleared for space. He laid out to latest experiment first, the enhancement formula, and started reading, adding the report from the hospital to the mix. Argent, to his credit, waiting patiently.  
“Well, Jackson explained it plainly at the hospital. A ‘safe steroid’, I suppose, though he was very careful with how much he gave them. About five doses with the amount of time he had them, but it cut down at least a year off of their recovery…though there’s something here in the beginning that bothers me. I think that he tested it on himself.”  
Argent glanced up at that.  
“The Hunters had… ‘talked’ to Jackson on at least two occasions according to this book. He recorded his own progress into it, though he didn’t use near as much. His bruised rib cage and fractured arm cleared up within the first six hours. An amazing amount of progress for normal human recovery.”  
“But that means that the kid is used to experimenting on himself.” He murmured gruffly. That was something that was a red flag in his book. Dr. Stein didn’t look to happy either.  
“While I’m glad he didn’t just use your boys as guinea pigs, I don’t like him using himself as a lab rat either.”  
Right. Right, that was the alternative. Dr. Stein continued with the other experiments, eyebrow moving to the middle of his forehead.   
“I’ve seen this before…” he whispered, pulling some of the magazines off from the book stand lining the shelf. Mr. Hackington was an avid reader of Science: Modern Age, a magazine created to help older monsters keep up with new discoveries and theories. Taking an issue from last year, he flipped through and started skimming a paper submitted by an anonymous scientist. The math had been a bit off, but the science behind the theory had been solid. It had a few heads turn in the Monster world.   
“This story, about blood cleaning for vampire infants and safe nutrient additives, it’s the same over here.” He said, laying the two papers together. Yes, they matched nearly word for word. Jackson, from the looks of it, was under the assumption that he was working with vampire bats samples. To the untrained eye, it was a mistake easily made. However, these were clearly Monster Vampire DNA samples.   
“Somebody is duping Jackson into doing their own work. He’s being used.”  
A low growl was coming from the werewolf, and Dr. Stein puffed up a bit in response.   
“No, not you Dr. I just have a pretty good idea as to who. Pieces are starting to come together.” He glanced at the clock, seeing that an hour and a half had already passed.   
“You got what you need? Jackson is probably done by now.”   
“I’ll need to ask some questions. If this is happening to others, I’ll need to know.”   
They waited as Holt completed a test as well, nervously walking out of the room.   
“Man, I’m not the one who got the tutoring!” he moaned, pressing the heel of his hands into his forehead. “Jackie, you deal with this stuff not me.”  
“Hey, I taught you the best I could!” Jackson replied from a mirror across the hall, making Dr. Stein jump a bit.   
Clearing his throat, Holt took the hint, negotiating another time to be out with Jackson before flaming out and leaving the black haired boy.  
“Incredible.” Dr. Stein said, before remembering the task at hand. “Jackson, there’s a few things we need to discuss.” He led the boy back into the lab, and began explaining. Jackson’s face became stone, his eyes burning as he’s fists balled into his sides.  
“After all of his complaining that I take too long with experiments. After saying that I wasn’t pushing myself, that I wasn’t giving clear enough results, he publishes them for the entire world to see? Without telling me?”   
He gathered the papers back into his arms, looking like a betrayed child.   
“Jackson, he won’t be able to anymore. Your experiments will stay safely with you, to publish or not. I noticed some of your newer pieces that you were thinking on for when the wolves had left. I’d like to help you if you’d like. Blood synthetic is a long desired conquest for many scientists here in the community, I’m sure that let you see some of their past work so you don’t go repeating the same experiments.”   
Jackson glanced up a bit, realization dawning on his face.  
“I…I can talk to other scientists now.”  
“It would be preferred, especially since you’re such a young blood in the arena, if catch my drift.” Dr. Stein said as he walked out with them.   
“I could come to you? If I had questions or anything?”  
“And supervision.” The large monster said sternly. “I’m not all too comfortable with a sixteen year old boy messing around with such dangerous chemicals in abandoned houses. Oh, and one more thing.”   
A dark green hand jerked his chin up into stern brown and blue eyes.  
“No more experimenting on yourself. Ever.”   
The smaller boy shrank boy, mumbling about no other options before agreeing. It wasn’t like he wasn’t aware of how dangerous it was too just inject chemicals in your system, but sometimes it was a necessity.   
“Ok, they’re going to sort through that, and it should be ready for next week.” Argent stepped in, thanking the Dr. before leading Jackson back to the van. “You’ll be ready for school after that, though I can’t guarantee that you’ll be in the same grade as Romulus and the others.”  
Jackson nodded, aware that he might not even be selected into High school at all. Stevenson had always said that they had been too smart for regular school, but they’re had been some areas in the test that Jackson had no idea on. Science, Math, English, Reading, those things had been covered extensively, but things like History, outside of scientific discoveries, had been neglected, and nobody counted Latin as a spoken language because of its lack of use. There were others, but he couldn’t think straight.   
“Jackson, do you know if Stevenson had contact with anybody else like you?”  
“Um, there were a few. We would meet up sometimes, when I was younger, though I can’t remember any names. They had their own handlers that worked with them, but they would get us all together for a ‘vacation’ of sorts. I think it was really just an excuse for them to talk about us without us knowing it. There’s nothing more curious than a seven year old with too much time on their hands.”  
Argent chuckled, knowing that all too well. He loved the twins to death, but they were constantly in his office, trying to read and unravel everything in sight.   
Jackson retreated into the room they set up for him when he got home, followed closely by Romulus.   
“You ok?” Romulus asked, bringing in a plate of sugar cookies and tea. Jackson usually at least tried to talk a bit before hiding away, a habit that he was trying to break. Romulus doubted that he ever really would.   
“Yes, just need to talk to Holt for a bit. But I don’t think that I can do it now, my head feels too full.”   
Romulus pulled the chair out from the desk, straddling the seat and waiting for Jackson to continue. This is what he had wanted to happen. To be able to listen and comfort and actually be able to talk.  
“I just…this is all going down to fast. Stevenson has been using my research and publishing it under anonymous names, and I don’t know if the others…if the other’s research has been taken too. I can remember their faces, vaguely, little things, but I can’t…I can’t…” He sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples.  
Romulus rolled forward, urging the plate towards him. Rolling his eyes, Jackson took a bite. For some reason, they were all so concerned that he didn’t eat enough. Holt ate enough for the both of them, why would he need to?   
“Focus on something that you can control. That you know for a fact.”   
Jackson snorted. “So much like your Dad. Ok, I’m going to school next week at Monster High because I never officially graduated from anywhere. My work has been copyrighted and released without my consent. I have no idea what samples I’ve been working with.” He stopped short as Romulus leaned over him; he’s dog tags brushing his Adam’s apple.  
“Fine, I’ll do it. I saved three teenage wolves from dying in horrible twisted agony with a special formula that I created in a lab in the basement of an abandoned house with no help whatsoever. I’m living with one of the most powerful packs in the state and I’m going to go to a normal high school and be a normal teenager. Those are the facts.”  
His eyes were still so beautifully green.   
“Well, normal might be stretching it.”  
The wolf huffed, collapsing onto the boy before making himself comfortable. He could feel the tension in Jackson, his hands carefully buried into the sheets.  
“I did this as a wolf,” he mumbled into the clothed shoulder, “Why is it different now?”   
“Maybe it’s because I wasn’t aware you were actually a werewolf?” Jackson sighed, hesitantly running his fingers through the thick brown hair. “Honestly, it’s because you’re so human now. The world of monsters is still so new, and to see my Platinum as this jacket wearing alpha male? It’s…it’ll take some time to get used to everything.”   
He could understand that, really. That was fine. His grip tightened on the back of Jackson’s shirt a bit.  
“But I couldn’t talk to you before. We couldn’t do this.”   
“Well, I will admit that it’s nice to know what’s going on in your mystery mind for once.” Jackson chuckled. “Is it normal for you to do this? I mean, do you…cuddle like this with anyone else in the pack?”   
Romulus was silent a moment.   
“It’s not cuddling. It’s just…just shut up.”   
Jackson sighed, taking the moment for what it was and hiding his face in his hair.

 

*Break*

 

“Ok, they have to discuss my placement test and schedule, but after that I should be good after that.” Jackson fidgeted with the handle of the book bag, feeling vulnerable. This was a Monster school. Like, Monsters everywhere. Fins, gills, claws, fangs, scales, and there was even a freaking gorgon, and he couldn’t imagine this if he tried. If he was honest, he was intrigued, and isolated and a bit excited. Romulus walked with him to the office; Dougey and Brocko close behind as always.   
“Alright. Meet us in the creepteria and tell us about it ok? I mean, it’s pretty much guaranteed that you’re going to end up in our year, if not graduated. Your smart Jackson, it’ll be fine.”   
Jackson nodded mutely, giving him a hopeful smile before going through the door.  
Romulus sighed, wishing he knew what to do to ease the jitters.  
“He’ll be alright Boss. We all had those the first day at high school and stuff. It’ll get better after he goes to a few classes.”  
But would it? I mean the Monster world was different from Jackson’s own. Jackson’s very lonely own world. And how would the Holt thing work? He sighed, turning off for his own class. First days were always full of nothing, but at least he could scope out who was in his classes.  
English first, room 213. He dropped into a seat in the middle; learning long ago that back row got picked on and the front were attention seekers. The only thing that he wanted was to blend in and stay out of it.   
The next three classes passed by quickly enough, but as lunch started, he glanced around for a familiar head of black and blonde hair, but couldn’t find him. He motioned to Dougey, who shook his head. None of them had seen Jackson since they had left him that morning. He should have been done by now, shouldn’t he? He waited until lunch started ending, grabbing some scraps from everyone’s plate and saving them. Jackson wouldn’t have eaten yet, and he needed something.   
“Hey, Headmistresses?” He called out, catching the women’s attention.  
“Yes Mr. Lang.”  
“Are you and Jackson still talking over his schedule?”   
She furrowed her eyebrows, her eyes squinting. “Jackson informed me that there were a few errands he had to do before he could start school. Something about unfinished business at his old home, but he didn’t go into much more detail than that.”  
His old home? The mansion inside the Switch Wood? What did that have to do with anything? He shook his head, thanking her before whipping out his phone.  
“Romulus?” Brocko tilted his head, waiting. Jackson wasn’t picking up. What the hell? What could he have back at the old place; they had already cleared out everything that they could take!  
“Jackson’s back at the mansion. Something about errands.”   
Dougey grabbed his book bag and he’s.   
“Call your Dad. Jackson couldn’t have just walked, right? He had to get a ride from somebody.”  
The silver wolf smiled, punching him in the shoulder in gratitude. Dougey always had a second plan in the wings in case. He’s father didn’t know, but he sounded off, he’s usual commanding voice dropped to a whisper.  
“We’ll figure it out after class. We can all sneak out in gym.” Doing so during classes was nigh impossible, the hall monitors under Rochelle relentless against stragglers in class. But it would be simple once they hit Gym.   
And the next class was Math. Great.   
The older werecat was going over the syllabus when an office attendant interrupted. Jackson scurried to a seat, smiling mischievously before sitting down and going over what he had missed. What the hell? He caught the silver werwolf’s eye and wiggled three fingers against his thigh. Wait. Not happy about it, Romulus huffed, but did as told.   
The bell shrilled off and Romulus was across the row in a flash.  
“Where?”   
Jackson smirked.   
That wasn’t an answer. The human rubbed his ears, trying to calm the anger rising in his blood.  
“I left for a good reason, and won’t do it again. But I made a promise before, and I had to keep my promises. Don’t I, Platinum?”  
He shook his head, huffing into Jackson’s face before leading him away. Jackson shared some classes with him in the morning, but he didn’t share any in the afternoon. Jackson would be doing half days. There was no denying the scientific genius that he displayed and was years ahead of any of their classes there at Monster High. But in other areas like general Hiss-tory and English, they were average at best, with Hiss-tory being the lowest. The fact that Latin wasn’t an accepted language in high school curriculum really ticked Jackson off, but if he took French, it wouldn’t be too bad. Zombie would probably be more useful, but he could do that later. His afternoons would be spent with one on one sessions with Dr. Stein and a few others at the Monster University. Holt would be taking after school courses with the Music Club. Luna knows that the club could use some different flavors in there, and he honestly couldn’t think of anybody better suited than Holt.  
But Jackson would be leaving for his science sessions now, after fifth period. Frustrated at the lack of time, he at least walked Jackson safely to the front. He would have to establish him publicly as one of the pack somehow to keep off the monsters making eyes at the human, but there wouldn’t be time for it today.  
“Talk when we get home?” Jackson asked, backing down a few steps, trying to look smaller. He had planned to be back in time before Romulus and the others even noticed he was gone, but that clearly wasn’t the case. The werewolf nodded, squeezing his shoulder before rushing to class.   
“What was that? Not like you to be touchy feely.” Clawd remarked as they walked to their class. Romulus shook his head.  
“No, but its Jackson. It’s different.”   
The brown werewolf smiled mischievously. “Hmm.   
“What?”   
“Nothing, nothing, you’ve just never had somebody who was… ‘different’.” He smiled broadly, rushing away from the werewolf before he could get a good hit in.   
Clawd wasn’t exactly wrong. Jackson, Jackson had fixed them at their most vulnerable point, and talked to them like human beings when he had the full right to treat them like animals. Jackson had been everything that he needed, both as a wolf and a werewolf trapped in his primal form. Attending and humble and utterly bright face in one of his darkest moments. It made since for him to be a protective!   
He cleared his head, sitting down. Normally, school didn’t bother him, but he couldn’t wait for it to end today.

*break*

 

Argent leaned against his leather office, feeling the migraine pick up as the minutes increased. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t-just-Jackson had seemed like such a good kid! Always so polite and humble and honest! And then he went and pulled this little stunt!  
He rubbed his temples, barely picking up his head as his wife entered the room, carrying a mug of tea in.   
“You know that something like this might have happened.” She stated softly, handing him two Tylenol. He gulped them down before shaking his head.  
“Did I expect retaliation? Yes. Did I expect this? No. Did I expect this from him? No, didn’t expect that!”   
She sat down on the couch, beckoning him closer. Sighing, he complied, laying in her lap and allowing her small fingers to brush through his thick head of hair.   
“You talk all the time about how protective Romulus and the others are of Jackson, and you’re telling me that you didn’t see that same possessiveness in Jackson? Really, think back dear. You’ll see it.”  
There were a few instances, he would admit to that. Jackson constantly keeping an eye on them, and a couple of occasions forgetting himself. Constantly slipping those nicknames into conversation, barely correcting himself, though Luna knew that the boys never corrected Jackson. Either name seemed to be fine for them. He had assumed that he stayed so close to them in gatherings because they were the most familiar, but perhaps that wasn’t the case at all?   
And then there was the way he acted in private. When he believed that nobody was watching. Petting and touching and talking to the boys as if nobody was even there. Checking over long sense healed stitches before just leaving his hand carded into fur. He had thought nervousness, forgetful maybe, but maybe it had been more.   
But still, blowing the weapons stash and cabin that the Hunter’s lived had seemed extreme, even to him. But he hadn’t been there when the boy’s were first found, so maybe that was the driving factor throughout all of this. That image seared into the human’s mind, which would mess up anybody.  
He had come running home just before school ended, his bright yellow shirt stripped down to show the black undershirt, a pair of yellow suspenders swinging on his thighs. He’s grin was too wide to be anything good, and so he had silently followed him about a quarter mile into the woods. Pulling out a pre-paid phone, he dialed a number.  
“Hey boys, is everybody where I told them to be? Yes? Oh good, at least you can follow directions. No, nothing bad! What kind of person would I be? I just thought I should let you know.” His hand flicked sharply, followed by a short boom nearly 90 miles out. He looked up to see a cloud of smoke and fire. “That was your weapons stash.” Another flick and another boom, close to the first. “And that would be the frankly disturbing cabin you have.”   
Jackson had blown them. Blown them sky high. Clouds of smoke filled the sky line, his eyes widening.   
The phone on the other side was frantic now, panicked voices even reaching his sensitive ears.   
“What the hell!”   
“That was your punishment for torturing the wolves. I managed to heal the damage, but next time, I won’t show mercy. Tell that to all of your precious clan.” His voice was silent, deadly. Where was this Jackson? Where was he hiding?  
“You’re Insane! No place to stay, all of our clothes, our stuff! You’ve left us with nothing!” A single voice yelled, temper rising.  
“You left them with less.” Jackson hissed like ice. It cut off all sound on the other end. “Happy Hunting!”   
And then he hung up the phone and crushed it underneath his heel, collecting the pieces in a small plastic bag.   
“Wouldn’t do for someone to get a hold of this, eh Brother?” He mumbled, glancing up to the right of his head before arranging his outfit normally, walking out of the woods like he hadn’t just broken any laws whatsoever.   
“I don’t know where that came from, Ramona. I never sensed anything like that in Jackson. Ever. I had him pegged as an Omega, but with that…I don’t know. I don’t know.”   
She was silent as she thought. Truthfully, she hadn’t expected that level of violence from the human either, but what did they really know about Jackson? Amazingly brilliant, savior to their children, but what else? Not much. About as much as the child knew about himself anyway.  
“Maybe it’s something in the blood, if you catch my drift.” She hinted. Werewolves were certainly known for their violence, and it wasn’t uncommon for humans dating werewolves to have a little bit of that primal rage rub off on them. And Jackson hadn’t had any real contact with anyone but werewolves for some time now. “Maybe now that he’s starting school and interacting more with other monsters, it’ll go down a bit.”  
“Hmm.” Argent muttered noncommittally. “The results came back on the police scanners.”  
She perked a bit.   
“Jackson matches a description of one of a group of children kidnapped back in 2000. Black hair, blue eyed, with a yellow hoodie and white shorts. Only just a kid. The parent filed a kidnapping report and was actually able to provide some genetic material. 99.9% match. And if that wasn’t enough, it was listed alongside an unnamed monster child that the parent’s claimed would emerge later on in life. No description on him, but…”  
“It’s as good as. Have you told them yet?”  
“Not yet. They already got in contact with the parents, a Tinder Burns and Jennifer Jekyll. Burns is special operations officer down at the Police Station, so naturally word would get around that he’s son might have been found, so that was unavoidable.” He signed, feeling some of the headache fade away thanks to her quick fingers. “I’m meeting up with them tomorrow morning for breakfast. Come with me?”   
She laughed, releasing his now combed hair to pull him from the chair. “Of course. But first, you need to sleep. You’re not staying up again Mister.”   
The next morning, they met the anxious pair. It was clear the Jackson took mainly after his mother, sleek black hair pulled back into a bun, pale skin unblemished by the sun. He noted the white lab coat slung over her purse and decided he took after her by quite a bit. But the sharp upturned eyes had come from Tinder, along with their deep blue color.   
They exchanged small talk until seated, not wanting to be overheard too much.   
“You found our sons?” Jennifer as soon was the hostess went away.   
Argent lifted the menu, angling it slightly to make a screen of sorts.   
“I definitely believe that they are your son. The blood sample is a near perfect match, and he looks as if he takes after you pretty heavily. Well, expect for the eyes, but that’s really a detail.”   
“No, it’s ok, we want details.” Tinder interrupted. “I mean, are they ok? Healthy? What do they look like? I mean-“  
“Tinder, I understand, but please, give the monster a chance to talk.” Jennifer chided lightly, clutching his hand underneath the table. They hadn’t slept at all the night before, the possibility, the sheer amount of maybe’s running through her brain keeping her up way past the usual times.   
And so he began. Jackson finding Romulus, Dougey, and Brocko, healing the boys, the enhancement formula that he created to speed up the process, getting caught up in Van Hell Scream’s Hunters, and finally, the boy coming to live with the pack. He left out the part of Jackson blowing a building to pieces.   
“The main thing that I want to get to is that Jackson has established strong pack bonds with Dougey and Brocko. Dougey is the future first beta and Brocko the head Omega.”  
“And Romulus?” Jennifer asked.   
“We believe that Romulus has made a much deeper connection to Jackson than the other two. A mate bond. Like myself and Argent.” Ramona added softly.  
Burns furrowed his eyes, putting his hands on the table. “But Romulus, Jackson, they’re still teenagers. How can you tell if a bond that…crucial has already been established?”   
“I’ll know for sure next week once the full moon as risen. That’s the one of the few concerns that I would have with him moving.”  
“Not to say that we want to keep them from you.” Ramona added quickly. “But we do want to be sure that all of the kids will be safe, emotionally and mentally.” Her husband could be a bit blunt sometimes.   
Jennifer nodded, her head swimming. Jackson, her poor boy, her precious baby, had been through so much. Whoever this Stevenson fellow was, she was going to kill him when she found him. But that would be for later. Bonds with a werewolf would mean an increased tendency toward violence and anger. Combine that with the Jekyll/Hyde DNA, well, it didn’t bode well.   
“When can we see him? We can work with the bonds, we can work with the pack, but we need to see our sons.”   
“Of course. We have a trusted friend of ours informing Jackson and Holt of the situation now. We’re hoping to arrange a day here pretty soon.”  
The talk in the IHOP Diner was going a lot better than the one at home.  
He had sent Dougey away to Brocko’s house, not wanting him to overhear. His son was protective as it was, and he didn’t want to see Jackson in such a vulnerable state. It would make it worse.  
Granted, Jackson wasn’t freaking out like he thought he would. He was quiet though, hands folded into themselves as he thought. Holt was fidgeting in the mirror, hands twisting and pinching the skin on his wrists and hands. Jackson gently rubbed his own, the flesh turning red.  
“Jackson,” Holt started, “what if they don’t, I mean, Jackie, look at us!” He said, flinging his hands into the air.   
“I know.” Jackson muttered, “But Holt…They’ll understand that we, well, we didn’t have a childhood, we don’t know how to handle ‘parents’, I mean. We just have to make them understand that there’s a lot of shit to go through. That’s just who we are. But that doesn’t mean we can’t learn, can’t try. I mean, that’s what parents do right? They work with you through the hard stuff. At least, that’s what I read…”  
“Yes. Jackson, there is no such thing as the perfect kid. Every parent has to work with something in their own kid. Well, in your case, kids.” Atlas interrupted. He couldn’t hear Holt’s side of the conversation, but he could hear Jackson’s response and piece it together from there. It made sense that they would be nervous.  
Jackson waited a moment before nodding his head. “When can we meet up?”   
“I’m going to have to call Argent later and see what your folks say.” Atlas told him.   
Your folks. Your folks. Jackson couldn’t wrap his head around it, it just didn’t register. He and Holt just needed a long talk, just a moment of privacy, but that was hard to come by when you were living with a pack.   
“I need a moment. Some air…” he whispered, pulling his shoes onto his feet.  
“Sure, Kid, I can do that. You just want to wander around the woods or you want me to just drop you off somewhere?”   
Not the woods. The woods were filled with Romulus’s little siblings right now on a faux hunt. Brocko and Dougey’s houses were filled to with little pups too young to go to school yet.   
“Anywhere where I can sit and think.” He sighed. A coffee house maybe? Or…no, better.   
“Is there any bars around here? Like, teenager bars?” They were a thing in New York. Basically a place where teens could get all different kinds of sodas, drinks, smoothies, shakes, anything you wanted. He had stayed there for hours getting all kinds of weird drinks, it had been great. Lemon sherbet with a lime twist, orange soda shake, all the classics that made his tongue curl. Holt had frequented there too, ended up writing an entire album there on something called the Dragon’s Piss. Jackson never asked, but he was pretty sure there was drugs in it.   
“Yea, little bar hop.” Atlas said, remembering the small faded place off of the corner of Garget and Feline. “Why?”   
Jackson grabbed his laptop and phone, along with the chargers, before stuffing them in his green shoulder bag and walking out. “Because nobody pays any attention to anyone else in there because they’re too focused on their own stuff. Ergo, they’re not going to pay attention to a boy talking to himself.” 

*break*

True to his word, Atlas really did just drop him off, telling him to give a call once he was done before driving off. Dougey was like that too. He’d let you work out the problem in your head if you needed it, and a sounding board if needed. Probably from years of Romulus doing the same thing. Jackson shook his head, trying to clear a spot, trying to enter the mind palace again.   
It was a method that they had discovered at a young age. After leaving in so many places it had been easy to construct one of their own in their mind, upstairs and downstairs. But while most people used it for memory, theirs had the addition of separating where Jackson began and Holt ended. When they were little, they’re hadn’t been much of a difference, and even once they found Holt’s distinct voice, they still blended at times. And so, mind rooms had to be made.   
Jackson’s was large and yellow and white and a scientists dream. A large desk where he kept all of his research, years worth of records and notes that he could review at any time he wanted, and lines of book cases accessible to any material he had read. They were of course classified into science and literature and fan-fiction, but they were there, none the less. A large king sized bed with a fluffy comforter, and a door that led to a lab, where he could perform his theoretical science while Holt was out.   
He exited his mind room and knocked on the other door.   
Holt’s was across the hall, and covered in shifting colors and shapes. He’s seemed to always change when Jackson entered, dominated largely by a stage and DJ stand, rows and rows of records lined in the book cases and hanging on strings on the ceiling. Holt’s bed was covered in satin instead, because it was still hot, even here in their own mind. But it was clear where his brain always was. He had a desk, covered with music pages and art supplies. Jackson had never seen the art pieces that Holt did, but he figured that they were private, and waited until Holt showed him.   
He heard a faint grunt and opened the door. It seemed more blue and purple with bursts of red today, and that was probably a sign of his confusion. Holt was sitting on the bed cross-legged and bouncing his knees.   
“Hey.” He said lamely, settling across from him. “So…”  
“Jackson, do you think that they’ll try to get rid of me? I mean…I’m technically the one that doesn’t exist.”  
Jackson frowned, grabbing a fistful of hair, “Look at me.”  
Holt glanced up, fiery eyes unreadable.  
“If they try, we leave. You are worth ten times whatever they can offer, but I don’t think they’re going too. I mean, I had to get you from somewhere, didn’t I? We’ve proven that we exist because of a mutation on our genes. That means that one of them has it too.”   
Holt nodded. Well, at least he knew that Jackson wasn’t going to leave him in the dust once they met.   
“I think that we need to set up a game plan. Get the worst out of the way and just straight up tell them about us, and the things we’ve done.”   
“Lay the cards out on the table…” Holt muttered. Jackson usually didn’t take the straight forward approach, but he could agree with this plan. Granted, he didn’t think they had done anything just heart-wrenchingly horrible, but that was really more of Jackson’s department. After all, they had been breaking the law for years.  
“Ok, so I have the laptop set up to record our conversation as we talk. Then maybe summarize the issues from there, and work from that point?”   
Holt laughed, yanking Jackson forward and rubbing his bangs. “Jackie! You always have a plan!”  
“Hey! Hey, no!” the black haired boy laughed, getting away. “Course I do. Now, let’s get started. First things first, we got to tell them about the bipolar thing with us. If they don’t have one of their own anyway.”  
“Yea, definitely. That’s core.”  
Sitting deathly still in the soda shop was a dim eyed boy that didn’t look quite human or quite monster, typing silently away, unseeing of anything that he was writing. Certainly not knowing that a stranger dressed in an expensive trench coat was searching them out, his orders clear. Bring Mr. Stevenson’s prized pupil home to continue what they started.   
“So, everyone’s ok with that?” Ramona asked. They had managed a time tomorrow in the morning. That would give everyone some time to get the shock out of their systems and get thoughts in order. The two couples parted ways.   
“How are we going to explain this to Harlow?” Jolene sighed, worrying on the edge of her lip. Tinder pecked her lips gently, trying to stop the nervous habit.   
“We’ll figure it out tonight. How about we just walk around for a little bit? I mean, from what I understood of that conversation, our little boys have been through a lot, and that’s just what the Lang Pack knows of. I’m sure that there are a lot of other things that Jackson and Holt haven’t mentioned. Let’s think on how we need to handle those.” He turned them away from the parking lot and strolling down the street. “I am kind of happy that he takes after you though, our little genius’s.”   
She chuckled, leaning against him. “Yes, well, get ready for house parties. If Holt is anything like Harlow, then he’s just as excitable.”  
He smiled, thinking deeply. Argent and Ramona hadn’t had any pictures of either of them, and he still wondered what they would be like. Would Jackson be just as shy as Jolene had been after discovering the Monster world? Would Holt be violent, was that something they were going to have to work on? Did Jackson have the same tendency to bury himself in work when he got overwhelmed? Harlow could feel the energy buzzing on both of them, trying to figure out what was going on, but Jolene promised she would explain once they got home, and she calmed some.   
Main Street was always bursting with activity and they passed all the passers, not even glancing into the Experimental Soda Shop.   
A black haired boy was still blank as he finally moved, saving the document onto his desktop before life seemed to start stirring back into his limp body. He would have to go over it in more detail later, but they couldn’t leave the body for such a long period of time. It had left them nearly comatose once, and they always had to be careful not to do that again.   
Jackson came to enough to understand that he was moving. Somebody was pulling him out from the vintage style chairs.   
“Sir, I’m telling you, you can’t just pull him out like this! I saw a werewolf drop him off! Besides that, the boy clearly isn’t himself!”   
The bartender, some kind of candy monster that smelled like cotton candy and buttery popcorn, was above him, his carefully clean hands keeping him in place as another leather hand pulled on his arm.  
“Sir, I assure you, the boy called me here for that exact purpose.”  
“I didn’t see a phone.” The pink and black monster replied.   
Jackson finally moved, hopping out of the chair to get behind the hulking monster. Who was this? And why was he trying to take him?  
“Jackson, you’re finally awake.” The man replied. His face was soft, trusting, but his clothes said that he was anything but. He’s hands were in leather gloves despite the warm weather, a form fitting black coat framing his shoulders. “Tell this gentle-monster that you’re ok? Honestly, your father has been trying to get a hold of you for ages now.” He stressed, tugging on his arm insistently.  
The blue eyed boy stepped back a bit, hands reaching for his back pocket. “I apologize, but tell Mr. Stevenson that I’m not going back. He knows what he’s done.” Jackson tried to stay firm, but he’s voice shook slightly as he spoke, finally finding the phone and pushing a few buttons from memory.   
The man tsked him like a naughty child. “Well, I was hoping you would be more reasonable than the others…oh well. More fun for me.” He said before lunging, an electric rod going through the candy monster before burying itself into Jackson’s chest. Muscles convulsing, his fingers squeezed the final button. Fast paced beats thrummed out of the phone, flames engulfing the teen until a boy skinned boy emerged, pissed and ready to fight.   
The front window exploded as the man was thrown through. Civilians screamed, running away from the shards of glass raining down. Holt ignored them, he’s flames reaching higher as the man laughed, trying to strike him again with the cattle prod.   
Jolene, just a few shops down, saw the fight, and couldn’t help the fear rising. The hair on the back of her neck rising, pupils shrinking to miniscule size, her body growing until Harlow appeared, roaring loudly.   
Well, this wasn’t exactly what she had been expecting when Jolene let her out, but, hey, not turning down a fight.  
“Tinder, Let me get these two real quick. Then we’ll talk, ok?” She said, bounding off.   
“Harlow, wait!” Tinder ran after her.   
Holt slammed his fist into the human’s face, feeling a satisfying crunch as his pretty little nose broke.   
“Leave us alone!” He bellowed. “Fuck Stevenson! We aren’t going!” Finally, he landed a good kick into the man’s chest, knocking the breath out of him. Police were coming now. Shit. They needed to leave, before this went on their actual record.   
“Easy Flame Head, you’ve proved your point.” Harlow said, locking the boy’s head above his head with practiced ease. He bucked and twisted, screaming in frustration, but her grip never loosened. Finally, he released a puff of flames, wrenching his attacker back.  
“You want some? Come on then!” Holt yelled, too far gone in his anger to even look before rushing her. Harlow easily dodged the blows, though Holt was still able to get a few shots in.   
“Easy, Kid!” She said before seeing her opportunity and pinning him down with his hands behind his back. He was still screaming, the police finally there. He was calming down though, he’s breathing easing a bit underneath her knee.   
“See, I’m not the bad guy here. Now, let’s get a look at the damage.” She said, easing him up. Holt rubbed his face lightly, trying to find any glass or cuts. So far so good.   
“Sorry, I, um, got carried away. But he was trying to kidnap us, you can ask the-oh, shit, the bartender!” He rushed up, screaming for a medic.   
“Calm down, they’re already inside. Candy man in there absorbed the worst of it, now sit down and let me look at you!” She snapped, taking his chin and twisting his face around. He’s skin was clear for the most part, though she wasn’t sure what exactly he was. He’s fiery hair had cooled enough to soft tuffs, mussed and messy from the fight. He’s jacket was a bit scuffed, but the leather had protected him from the glass. The worst of it was from the dust and black grime on the street.  
“Harlow,” Tinder said softly, glancing between the two of them in awe. Tinder was used to seeing her fight, so why was he looking like she had broken the record.   
“Hey, I was gentle! He’s ok!” She defended. But Tinder shook his head, snatching a bottle of water from one of the officers and pouring it over the teen’s face.   
“Hey!” He exclaimed.   
“Do you not see it?” He whispered, pulling his phone out and snapping a picture of the two of them before turning it to where she could see.   
“Tinder, what in hell are you talking about…?” she whispered before her brain finally clicked. The skin was the same shade of pale blue, the eyes the same golden shade. Those she could have brushed off. But with his face clean, she could finally see it. A spidery like mark that twisted around his right eye and temple. The same as hers.   
The teen shot up, yanking her face to the side and tracing the mark alongside her face. Harlow could say nothing, speechless.   
“Is it…are you…?” He muttered, glancing at the two of them. Tinder was tearing up though, little trails of smoke going down his face as the tears burned against his flesh. Harlow glanced at him before taking a plunge into Jolene’s memories. Normally they tried to respect the other’s privacy, but she would just have to forgive her for this one.   
It took a minute, but she finally understood.   
She yanked him close, soothing his wild hair as she felt him shake, mouth moving for several minutes before he was finally able to speak.  
“I have so many questions. I…what kind of monsters are we? Like, species or something I guess? What the hell happened? What kind of music do you like?” He snapped up, head tilting left for a moment, listening. That drove the nail into the coffin. He had to be. He had to be.   
“Holt.” Tinder chocked, pulling the both of them close. Weepy eyed, they stayed for quite a while, until the police had to reluctantly talk to Holt about the incident. He glared before he relaxed, probably urged at the behest of Jackson.   
Shit. Jackson. Jolene!  
She glanced around, but there wasn’t anything reflective enough for Jolene to show through. The window had been smashed, and the other shops were dirty with dust from the brawl.   
“Ok, let’s get out of here before Mr. Policeman over there decides to change his mind about that menace to the peace charge.” Holt said, grabbing both of their hands and pulling them away, his wild smile growing wider as he stole a look at her.  
“Party Monster.” Harlow said. “We’re Party Monsters.”   
Holt laughed, loud and obnoxiously, and it was probably the best sound that she had ever heard.   
Jackson had warning before hand, along with Jolene. The Hyde’s and Burns had hit up the local arcade, eating pizza and playing games and just doing what they should have done years ago. They talked, of course, but most of the questions Holt didn’t know. He hadn’t been really aware of himself, separate from Jackson, until he was eight. Anything before that was Jackson’s domain. They’re laptop had been destroyed at the soda shop; the worries that they had feared weren’t brought up. They just wanted to get to know them.   
Burns had called the Lupin Pack to let them know what happened. Jackson and Holt were going to be a bit late tonight, but that was fine with them. He halfway wished they didn’t have to return him, but they didn’t have rooms made up yet. His sons weren’t sleeping on the floor.   
“Ok,” Holt said, games played and done. Harlow nodded. “Here goes.”   
He flamed out, and Harlow flashed away, leaving in their places two meek looking humans.  
Jolene was silent a moment, just simply looking at him. He bleached his hair, she noted, the bright yellow bangs matching the button up underneath, he’s gray slacks a bit wrinkled from the activities of today.   
Jackson was taking a moment too; he’s sharp eyes observing the both of them. He took more after his father than he would have thought, the strong jaw line and sharp upturned eyes coming from him, but he’s black hair and blue eyes from his mother. Was she a scientist too? Now that he was physically here, he didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been able to mentally prepare for this.   
A server came by, a plate of macaroni and cheese balanced carefully on the table before scuttling away.   
And that was it. Jackson laughed, his nerves easing a bit. Jolene glanced at him, unsure.  
“Mac and cheese is my favorite.”   
Jolene smiled, grabbing three forks and softly talking, his smile soft and lovely and perfect and undeniably her son’s.


	3. As Light Reveals Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson's home with his family, but Romulus is having a hard time adjusting to the change, and finally makes a decision. Tinder and Harlow find the man who took their son away, and leave with more than they bargained for.

It took a few weeks, and a lot of paperwork, but Jackson was officially apart of the Jekyll-Hyde Family again.   
Glancing up at this newly painted sun yellow room, he smiled at the piles of toys in the middle of the room.   
They had kept it. When the first came up here, Jolene and Tinder had kept their childhood room as exactly as they had left. A small bunk bed, toys put in their chest and painted in cheery blues and soft purples. But it wouldn’t fit now. Clearing out the guest bedroom and their old room, they started decorating, with the help of some friends of course.   
“It looks awesome, Romulus.” He handed the werewolf a glass of lemonade, motioning him to some of the chairs that were arranged in the middle as well. Jackson could tell that Romulus was trying to be supportive as they transitioned back into another home, but he could tell that he had been struggling with it too. Romulus flopped down, motioning Jackson closer until they were seated on the same chair, he’s muzzle in the crook of Jackson’s shoulder. For somebody who insisted that it wasn’t cuddling, he sure did insist on it often.  
“What’s going on, Platinum?”   
“I’m just…a bit concerned with you leaving the safety of the pack is all.” He sighed.  
“Are you saying I should stay at Dougey’s?” Jackson asked lightly, trying not to sound angry. After all that Jackson and Holt had fought for, after years of feeling like they weren’t wanted, confused as to why they had been abandoned.   
“No! No, I just…wish that there was some way that I could protect you, even here. Do you not- I mean- Do you-“he fumbled over his words, nerves getting the best of him.  
“Use your big boy words Platinum.” He teased, chuckling as he felt claws dig into his sides.  
“Can you make it to the house tomorrow night?”   
“School night?” Jackson questioned. What would be happening anyway? Romulus shook his head, refusing to answer. “Just come to the house.”  
Jackson nodded, getting up from the chair to go look at Holt’s room. Dougey and Brocko had offered to do his because of the sheer amount of color needed to apply to the walls. Red, orange, yellow, and purple on the four different walls, splattered with other colors of course.   
Jackson cried out as red paint was splattered onto his clothes.  
“Alright, that’s it!” Grabbing a paint brush of his own and flinging it into smoky fur. Romulus smiled sharply, running into the other room to throw some paint of his own. Maybe he could accidently trip and put paw prints on Jackson.   
The boys weren’t the only ones having a good day. Tinder had been grilling Jackson and Holt’s attacker for weeks now, trying to find any information on Stevenson or what he was using Jackson for besides copywriting his experiments, but so far nothing. Until today. John, as he called himself, had finally broken under his tender care.   
“And what is the island called?”   
The man, laying his head across the table, muttered, “It doesn’t have one. I can give you the quadrants though.”   
Tinder hid his smile as Mr. John wrote down a series of numbers. “And what do you call it?”  
“The Isle of Sinners. Ungodly things done on that island, Mr. Burns. Unspeakable things.”  
“Then why work for him?” He asked.  
John gave a bloody smile, “Sinners will pay handsomely for atonement. And I’m the priest granting pardons!” he laughed.   
“Thank you, John. That’ll be all for today.” He murmured, slamming the human’s head into the table for good measure. “Take him to his cell; give him the food and water. He’s finally earned it.” He instructed to the guards outside before power walking to his desk, spinning his chair gleefully.  
“He finally break?” Hawthorne asked, his leaves fluttering slightly in surprise.  
“We have a location boys!” Tinder exclaimed, plugging the numbers into a map. It was definitely off charts, but not now.   
“When you heading out? I want in on this!” Another officer said, he’s fanged grin promising death. Tinder matched it, running to the Chief’s office.   
“Hopefully, in a few days!”   
Normally, an operation like this would take time, and precious time wasted where their targets escaped if they caught on. But Chief owed him a few favors, making the paperwork go by a bit faster. It wouldn’t be long before he knew exactly why Jackson was taken, and for what purpose other than a lap rat.   
Jackson had given them everything he remembered, going back into his archives for nearly a whole day as Holt messed around the station, making music and setting up a few gigs for birthdays. The younger officers were in love with the sound, and while Tinder didn’t know why it sounded good exactly, he knew that he liked the beat of it. Holt pulled out some different stuff for the older monsters, mixes that himself and Jackson and done together, and the easiness they gave was a blessing on hard days. He had sold those and promised more. But Jackson eventually needed back out.  
From what he could remember, he wasn’t the only child to be taken. There was at least three other children, though he still couldn’t remember names, he got a good look at their faces, which matched the description of a good portion of the kids that had suspected to be taken by the same man.   
A young black girl, with a neatly braided black hair, almond gray eyes and a scar across her collarbone to the tip of her sternum. A young boy, curled hair forcibly cut short with blue eyes. And then one other boy. He was a permanent resident of the island, constantly covered head to toe with long black hair. Jackson remembered him the least, only able to tell them that he was a bit older, and carried a small bee on his shoulder. Bugs would never hurt him, and he could vaguely remember a swarm of yellow and black protecting the three of them when a creature had escaped. Tinder tried to get him to describe the creature, but Jackson hadn’t been able to see it through the swarm of bees that flew around them.   
He smiled brightly, rubbing at the edge of his wallet where a picture of Jackson and Holt sat now. He had kept the photo of them as babies, all small and warm in a blue blanket, but beside it was a photo-shopped picture of the two boys together, just a little shot at home, nothing fancy. He’s sons were home, and he would be home with them, if Jackson didn’t insist on going to school, even now.   
“Chief!” He knocked on the door only out of curtsy before barging in. “I got a location.”   
The large German Sheppard took the file and flipped through, reading through it quickly. “I assume that you’ll want to be in on the task force, despite law saying that I shouldn’t let you anywhere near the perp in question?”  
“I can control myself.” Tinder stated, trying to stand a little straighter, a little taller. Chief marked a few things.   
“I’ll make the arrangements as soon as possible. In the mean time, finish ‘Mr. John’ off. Drain him dry of any more information he has, whatever means you need to use.” He paused a moment, glancing up from underneath his eyes. “The only reason that I’m allowing you to go is because of the restraint that you’ve shown with Mr. John in there. Nobody would have blamed you for killing the bastard. But don’t let that freedom go to your head. I can still pull you out of this operation if you lose your cool. Got it?”  
Tinder replied sharply with a ‘yes sir’ and marched back out of the office. He was well aware that he was on thin ice here, and being a fire elemental didn’t help with his core temper, but he was determined to stick this out. Had to, for the sake of his boys.   
He took a breath as he sat down, pulling the photo out from the leather slot and putting it on the corner of his monitor. His focus point, always. He sighed with a smile, rubbing the edge for nerves before pulling up the program to type out the session that he just had with Mr. John. By the time that he was done with this, then it would be time to begin again. 

*break*

Apparently Jackson wasn’t going to have any trouble convincing his parents to stay at the Lang Pack for the night. Because they were both going off on the police operation to the island. It made since for his Dad to go, he was a part of the special operation unit from the beginning and had been in out of country such situations. But Jolene and Harlow had always remained state side, waiting patiently for Tinder to return home.  
“It’s not that we don’t want to stay,” Jolene fretted, stroking his hair back out of his eyes. “I-We, I should say, just have to make sure that they can’t hurt you again. They’ll need a scientist there on sight to ID anything useful and help them bag up evidence.”  
“And I’ll get to smash a couple of faces in, not a bad day for me! No more attackers, no more hunting’s, no paranoia for any of us, Holtster. Or did you not think that we didn’t notice you glancing over your shoulder?” Harlow said in the mirror as she hugged Holt. Jackson didn’t know if they were ever going to get used to that. Hearing somebody else’s voice in the mirror that wasn’t, well, theirs.   
“I’ll be fine. It’s not like you’re leaving me home alone.” Jackson said, mentally wincing. They tried not bring up any of the past like that. It wasn’t like they were lonely; they had always had each other! Well, maybe a bit lonely. The human shook himself of the thought before they left, a helicopter ready on the roof of the Police Station to take them onto an airplane where they would parachute onto a Coast Guard boat at ready. It seemed very complicated and drawn out to Jackson, but they would be back by the end of the week at the most.   
“Don’t worry so much, Holt. They’re going to be ok. We are too.” He whispered, ruffling the hair on the right side of his head.   
“Yea, I know. Just don’t like for them to head off like this after we just found them, damn it.” The fiery haired boy sighed.   
“And we’ll find them again. We have last names now, remember? And they’re pretty darn unique, no hiding with them.” Jackson smirked, running the sound over in his mind again. Jekyll and Hyde. The strange and mysterious tale of Jekyll and Hyde. No wonder they were so, well, strange a monster to begin with. Holt snorted, disappearing in the mirror to self-soothe with some bass induced techno. A deep bass was key to happiness.   
Jackson hopped into the car with Romulus, a classic mustang with brown leather and cherry red paint. The human didn’t know how exactly the wolf was able to afford the car, especially with the gas mileage it probably took to get to the Pack House out near the woods to school alone, but he did somehow.  
“Got everything?” Romulus asked, putting his arm around the back of the seat in order to see out of the back.  
“Yes.” Jackson said, mentally running through the checklist. He didn’t have much to bring, Romulus insisted on keeping duplicates of Jackson’s things at the house, just in case. The wolf smiled and they drove out.   
Romulus had been acting strange. Well, more strange than usual maybe. He seemed more insistent on touching Jackson, or just plain being close. At school, he would walk Jackson to class, even if it was completely out of his way. Spending time at the Jekyll and Burn house because he wanted to be with him and nearly always cuddling.   
Not that Jackson minded, he thought with a blush. He wasn’t above admitting that Platinum the wolf made a very handsome werewolf Romulus. And that that favoritism might be turning into something a bit more, well, romantic, now that the wolf had a voice and was able to carry quite an interesting conversation. Lately though, maybe not enough. He was quiet, his mouth drawn into a tight line like a horizon. Sometimes he would look at Jackson like he held the universe and refused to share.   
They didn’t say much as they drove up to the house, and Jackson glanced up curiously at the wolf as he insisted on taking Jackson’s bags to his room.   
“I just don’t understand him sometimes…” he muttered, walking towards Dougey and Brocko who were already meeting him halfway.   
“If you don’t get it by now, you will by tonight.” Dougey said gruffly, a wild look in his eyes as his claws dug into his skin. Jackson could remember the same behavior when he was stuck in the bedroom for too long at the Switch Wood Mansion. Gently, he pulled the wolf down, rubbing the tips of sensitive gray ears, waiting for his body to drop before motioning Brocko to lie down as well.   
“What do you mean, Titanium?” He said softly.  
“Full moon…” Brocko groaned as Jackson begin scratching the back of his scalp, a sweet spot that Jackson wasn’t above using.   
Full Moon? Wasn’t it dangerous to be around werewolves on the full moon, especially if you weren’t one! He gave the two werewolves one last pet before running into the house, thankfully empty. Had he asked Argent about this? How did Argent ok this?  
He hit a solid wall before arms grabbed him, yanking him up before he hit the stairs.  
Xanthe!  
“What’s your hurry, Jackson?” He chuckled.   
“Why would Romulus invite me here on the full moon?”   
His blonde eyebrows flew up his forehead. “Romulus invited you?” He was under the impression that Jackson was here because he’s parents left on that Police Investigation in the middle of the ocean. When had Romulus invited Jackson?  
“Yes, yesterday, when we were finishing painting. Isn’t it dangerous for anything to be near a werewolf at the full moon? Especially a human?”   
“Well, um, it’s a bit more complicated than that…” the blonde werewolf uttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Come here for a sec.” He ordered, going down the stairs and into the kitchen, preparing a kettle of green tea. It was calming, and a time filler while he tried to think of how to explain this to a human. Xanthe’s own mother had explained it to Sandra, nearly two decades ago.  
“Jackson, you know that not all of the werewolves here started as werewolves, right?”  
Jackson nodded, taking the empty mug as the water boiled.  
“A handful of the pack here started as humans who accepted the monster lifestyle in order to be with their loved ones. Some choose not to take the conversion, which makes relationships a bit more difficult, but sometimes they couldn’t physically handle the transformation, which is always a good reason, but that’s not the point.” He interrupted, trying to stop his nervous babbling. “Point is that before they can even be considered for a conversion, they have to be accepted by the pack. The best way to tell is during a Full Moon. Werewolves won’t attack their own.”  
“But if a werewolf attacks them, they haven’t been fully accepted into the pack.” Jackson muttered, feeling a coil of ice in the pit of his stomach.  
“Which is when the werewolves who accepted them come and convince the others. Through persuasion or a fight; all depends on the wolf.” He said, silent as the kettle screeched.   
“So, what, Romulus is just going to fight every werewolf here until they accept me as pack?” Jackson uttered, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all.  
“I doubt that Romulus is going to fight anybody.” Xanthe laughed, “Your pretty well liked here, both you and Holt.”  
Jackson didn’t look at him though, fingers trailing around the edge of the mug. “Look, I think what Romulus is trying to say is that there’s a home for you here too. It’s pretty obvious here that he misses you. But you don’t know for sure if you don’t talk to him.” He stood up, shaking the numbness out from his legs. “Now, I’m going to go take this to my beautiful wife, and you’re going to go talk to that ridiculous wolf of yours.” He reached across the table, rubbing his shoulder briefly before padding out of the kitchen.   
Jackson sighed, blowing on the tea before taking a tentative sip. Romulus and he really did need to talk. The way he was acting, the revealing of this little tidbit of information, what did he want from Jackson? Making another cup, he walked up the stairs to his room.   
“Hey, Rom” he called out, pushing on the door with his elbow, “can we talk for a minute?”   
But the werewolf was nowhere to be found. He didn’t leave the house; he would have heard it from the kitchen for sure.  
The mugs crashed down to the ground, the door slamming behind him.  
“Romulus!” He cried out, banging his fists on the door.   
“I’m sorry! Just…just stay in there for an hour ok? Then you came come out. But not before then.” Romulus’s voice uttered from the other side of the door, sounding small and meek.   
“Xanthe already explained to me what all of this was for. What are you trying to prove here?   
Romulus cursed softly. He should have done it himself, before it happened. “I’ll explain later, but, please, just…do this for me, ok? I’m not proving anything to anyone but myself.” And maybe you, he added mentally. There was no response for minute. Romulus held in his whimpers of pain as he felt the change.   
“Romulus, I have seen you in your werewolf form before, what’s so different now?”  
He winced, the faint smell of smoke and metal curling in his nostrils. Not his best moment, not by a long shot.  
“Because it’ll be different this time. Just, set your timer and wait here, ok? I even put your book on the bed. We can talk later.”   
He raced down the hall, already feeling his claws stretching beyond the skin on his hands, his shoulders stretching the purple button up before he was able to completely toss it away. He may have waited too long, was definitely going to feel it tomorrow, but Jackson would stay, which was all he needed. 

*break*

It was an a bit over an hour before he heard it. A faint scratching on his door.   
“Like Platinum used to do on my office door…” Jackson mused, putting a slip of paper into the book before cracking the door slightly.   
Romulus had doubled in size, his shoulders broad and towering, his feet the size of Jackson’s forearm, his silver coat gleaming like a knife in the dim light inside the house. Green eyes looked down on him warmly though, and Jackson stepped out, hands reaching out to pet the soft head.   
“Romulus?” He whispered. The werewolf barked, nuzzling him fondly before crouching low to the ground, presenting the great scruff of fur between his shoulder blades like a throne.   
“Ok?”   
He gathered himself onto his back, trying to be gentle, but Romulus didn’t seem to mind, prancing down the stairs and outside.  
The whole yard was filled with werewolves, large and hulking with bright fur, some smaller and more lithe, but they didn’t seem as dangerous as he would have thought. Dougey looked like he had been in a scuffle, but otherwise ok, he’s frame overwhelming most of his cousins. He sat a bit higher, reaching out a hand.   
“Still a softie…” he whispered as he fell to the ground in happy growls. Brocko waved a tail at him, too busy playing tug of war to separate from the ground. Nobody seemed to mind that Jackson was there though, going about their games and wrestling peacefully, if a bit loudly. Romulus took them a bit past, showing him off to everyone in the back, who did nothing. Argent gave a sharp growl, directed toward the silver wolf, though made no move to remove Jackson. Romulus hadn’t asked anyone before deciding to take Jackson along. Ramona was the only one to interact, pressing her cold nose into his stomach before giving him a soft lick.   
Romulus led them away to a clearing, only inhabited by a few in the Pack before lying down, jerking his head to the side.   
“Yes, yes, I know, you’ll have the Pack all to yourself one day.” He smirked, petting the soft silver ears. “And you want me in it, I guess? Is that what you’re going for here?”   
Romulus looked at him a long moment before pinning him to the ground and biting him. Not enough to break anything, but enough to leave a mark.  
“What the hell?” Jackson yelled. Dougey rushed up, before he stopped. A low growl from Romulus, a warning, before he gently lapped at the spot, smiling toothily at his work. Dougey seemed to roll his eyes before padding away again.   
“Well, I’m glad you’re happy. Because you’re going to be in trouble later.” Jackson muttered, clutching his shoulder. It didn’t hurt that much, but it was the principal of the matter. The green eyed werewolf laid down and didn’t move for the rest of the night, curling possessively around him. 

*break*

“Ok, everybody understand their position?” Captain Garbanzo echoed in the metal space as they approached the island. Tinder tightened his grip on the rifle a bit tighter, anticipation rolling across his shoulders. Easy, he told himself, steady. Don’t lose your cool. Harlow cracked her neck. She had insisted on being out during the first rounds as they invaded the island. Jolene would come out later, as they got deeper into the labs.   
“Let’s move out.”   
A gate in the boat cracked shuttered open, a trickle of water flooding the bottom of the steel floor before they began rushing out silently, waves after waves invading the island.   
“Stay close.” Tinder said softly, hearing for the sound of Harlow’s boots hitting the same ground as him.  
“Don’t worry about me, find Stevenson.” She fired back, her hands clenched at her sides, ready to swing.   
The island itself was small and pleasant, a faint breeze floating across the air. The sand was soft and bleached white from the sun, the water cold in the humid air. Trees swayed calmly, their leaves offering a soft coverage to the harsh rays. Deeper in, the fertile was soil, and animals crossed every which way as they continued, bright reds and oranges, the largest animal so far being a small bobcat, which glanced at them curiously before padding away.   
It wasn’t until about four miles in, they started noticing the changes. The trees shifted into artificial neon’s and the ground was planted with glowing rocks that created a path. The sounds of bugs were curiously absent, he noted. Tinder glanced at Harlow before continuing down the blue lit path. Trails always led to somewhere.   
Something made his neck itch though. Like he was being watched. Glancing back, he felt nothing, but then Harlow lunged forward.   
Her blue frame went down like thunder, struggling to get up against the small figure that pinned her arms to her back.  
It was a rich blue and gray, with the feet of a werewolf and the fangs of a vampire. Fur covered his back and shoulders, but pale flesh gleamed with sweat on his face and chest. Young and small, with two mismatched eyes, Gold and Red. Vampire and werewolf.   
And clearly a part of the island.  
It lifted a clawed finger to his lips, hissing softly before beckoning him forward, diverting from the path.   
“Why?” he whispered. The creature shook his head, urging him forward again.   
“Tinder, let’s go, forget it.” Harlow huffed, shaking the dirt off her uniform.  
“Let’s go. If it wanted to report us to its master, then it would have done so already. See the radio on his belt?” He waved to it, a small walkie-talkie clasped on his right, a ration pack, canteen of water, but no weapons. He followed the creature as it sprung forward in a gliding sort of run, a pair of wings on his back floating out slightly to catch the small drifts. Definitely more playful than anything.   
It was a shortcut, he realized, as the blue creature led them to a back room.  
It was a research facility, all windows and air conditioning units surrounding the ground. It had to be at least the size of a small high school, its white walls washed with rain. A straight roof was covered in sun panels and generators, along with a wind mill farm a few miles back from the facility itself. The security cameras were dead, the red lights off, they’re eyes pushed away from the sidewalk where the three strolled through.   
Taking a card, the blue hybrid concentrated as he pulled it through a black slot, ushering them through the door before it slammed shut.  
“OK little guy, I’ve been patient. Where’s Stevenson? Can you take me to him?” Tinder asked softly, pulling his gun to eyelevel.  
The hybrid never gave any indication of understanding him, but continued doing his strange run down the hall and turning sharply on the tip of a leather wing. Sprinting to keep up, they didn’t look as the rooms became bigger, the spaces more vacant.   
Finally, it stopped, a smashed key card holder hanging off the wall as a door opened and closed on its hydraulics, blocked by a piece of equipment.   
“Good kid.” He whispered, unconsciously giving it a pat on the head before shoving through.   
The place was in ruins, papers thrown every which way, chemicals seeping into the floor and walls. Clearly, a fight had happened.   
“Tinder.” Harlow barked from the other side. Marching back, he saw a body hanging from a broken beam.   
Shit.   
It was an older man, a bit older than Tinder, with a short beard and round glasses. A long white coat covered his body, a dirty pair of slacks spotted with blood. Harlow shook her head as she tried to find a pulse. He was gone. Looting through his pockets he was finally able to find a key card.   
“Stevenson. This is Stevenson.” He muttered, carefully put the card in his pocket before letting himself smoke a bit. Damn it, they had come down her to get answers from this bastard!   
A sharp nip at his wrist brought him back. The hybrid was still leading them? If it wasn’t to his dead master, then to who? He trailed behind, finally noticing another key card holder. From the looks on the screen, it needed three though. The hybrid pushed two more into his hands, scratching at the metal.  
Dr. Stevenson. Dr. Buckland. Dr. Ivanov. The cards were easily accepted, though he wondered if the other two scientists were dead as well.   
The room opened up to what he could only describe as a zoo. Hybrids of every breed and shape and size were jumbled in, crying and whimpering. Some of them appeared to be shot at, several guns laying on the ground, the magazines unloaded into the ground. The blue hybrid, one of the smaller ones apparently, ran forward to a gleaming head of brown hair. There was a group of them, all tending to one hybrid or the next. The only girl in the group was elbows into some sort of primate.   
“Don’t just stand there! Help us get the hybrids out! Stevenson has lost his shit!” she barked, finally glancing up at the two of them. “You’re not…Laelaps, who’d you get?”   
The blue hybrid grinned to him happily, squeezing underneath a cage and arching his wings against the withered metal, allowing a few more hybrids to come out.   
“It’s ok, we’re here to help. Get you guys out of here, somewhere safe.” He replied, reaching for his radio. A black haired boy, clearly the oldest, pulled Harlow to a cage, the lock smashed through. She rolled her eyes but pulled the metal apart, a sort of centaur hybrid racing out, burbling with thanks. Burbling? Wasn’t that for fresh-water monsters?  
“Commander Garbanzo.” He said into the hand piece. “Stevenson is dead, suicide. Facility is clear on the south end. Chief…” He paused, trying to explain this. “You gotta come see this.”   
“10-4” 

*break*

Romulus quickly rushed out of the school doors, ears perked high for the sound a familiar voice. He had been trying to find Jackson all freaking day, but he hadn’t been able to get hide nor hair of him.   
“C’mon Jackson. I need to know-“  
“I have a lot I need to know to.” A sharp voice replied, yanking his ear down. He yelped sharply, blue eyes burning into his. “But I had to wait until school was over, because me and you are having a long talk. Dougey, I’m taking Romulus.” He tossed over his shoulder before leading the wolf away by his ear. Ok, so maybe he deserved some of this. But Jackson was quick to let go, replacing his ear with a death grip on his arm as he marched angrily away. He tried talking to him as they moved out of the school and into his neighborhood, but Jackson hissed every time, muttering incomprehensively under his breath. He yanked the key in the lock of the Jekyll home before shoving the wolf in and shutting the door.   
“Why? If you wanted to make a point that I was Pack, fine, waltz me around on your back, whatever. But pinning me to the ground? Biting me? That’s not ok!”   
“Do you not get it? What do I have to do Jackson?” He fired back. “I know that you know, you know that I know, so why are we doing this song and dance?”   
“Know what, Romulus? Because clearly, I have no freaking idea!”   
He huffed, yanking the sweater off of his shoulder to reveal the still red mark.   
“You know what happened in gym today, when I had to prance around with this thing blaring off like a siren? Not one wolf would get near me. Not one. Clawd was the only one that would get near me, and he said he was only safe because of Draculuara. What in the ever loving science does that mean?”   
“Good.” The silver boy huffed. Jackson felt his temperature rise.   
“What did you do?” Jackson hissed.   
Romulus grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him slightly.  
“I marked you as Pack!”  
“Lot more than that, keep going!”   
Romulus growled lowly before marching Jackson upstairs, tossing him on the bed before curling in front of him, taking the brunt of his fists as he slammed against Romulus.  
“What do you feel when we do this?” He asked softly, keeping his eyes forward.  
“Don’t you try and butter your way-“  
“Jackson, I’m serious! What do you feel?” He barked, feeling the human tense underneath him. “Does your stomach curl with heat? Do your muscles relax, do your eyes close because you know you’re safe, and home and nothing could hurt you as long as he’s around? Does your body still ache to be closer, even though we are only a foot apart? Because let me tell you, that’s what mine does! Every time!” He whimpered. “How can you not feel it? I know you do. You know that I do too. Why can’t you just…”  
But Jackson’s eyes were as wide as the sky, staring up at him like he was a different monster.   
“I didn’t know. Romulus, I didn’t, I don’t…what are you trying to say here?”  
He sighed, taking the plunge and softly pulling Jackson closer, brushing his lips across his cheek and jaw before resting barely an inch away from his lips.   
“Don’t make me say it. Don’t make me say it without knowing that you want this too.”   
Jackson was still, chest moving deeply before tentatively moving forward.   
The heat in his stomach curled tighter, moving closer as shaking hands came to curl around his brown hair. Growling softly, he pulled Jackson’s waist to him, a sharp gasp as their bodies connected. Romulus tilted his head, deepening the kiss and groaned as clever fingers tightened on his neck.   
“Rom…” Jackson whispered, pulling him forward. Smirking, he placed the human on his back, his black hair fluttering across the sheets as a quick mouth nipped and licked on his neck, pinning his arms above his head as he opened the soft mouth underneath, pushing a rough tongue inside. He moaned as Jackson arched, rubbing the tip of his tongue underneath a sensitive fang.   
“Hell, Jackson.” He groaned. Jackson laughed, pulling away.   
“You know, I don’t mind being pinned like this.” He muttered, laughing as the werewolf rolled his eyes.   
“Mhm, can I continue now?” He said, rubbing one soft hand down to his jaw line.   
“Please do.” Jackson urged, his laughter quickly turning into gasps. 

*break*

The last blood sample taken, the three teens looked at each other, hands cold and still in their laps.  
“What now?” Daniel asked, fixing his pony tail for perhaps the fifth time in the hour.   
“We get out of here. We take the hybrids and get out.” Bronte answered, rubbing her shaved head. “Renfield!”   
The older boy stared up at her, a small flying ant crawling down his shirt.  
“We got everybody?”  
He looked back over the field of hybrids they were able to save, and then some that had to be taken to medical. They had already covered the basics of their anatomy with the professionals, but they weren’t trusted near the equipment. They could only comfort and watch as they were loaded into a boat, separated into cages for their safety, and carried away to a safer location. Daniel had offered his own, sure that his batch of creations and the ones kept on the official island would get along just fine, but that only seemed to raise more alarm than anything else.   
“Dr. Ivanov said that they would be ok…” Daniel whispered, softly stroking Laelaps head. He had been the only hybrid that refused to be moved, hissing softly at anyone who tried to move him.   
“Doesn’t matter what they said then or now. Stevenson is down, Ivanov and Buckland are nowhere to be found, and they destroyed the only communicator to Dr. S. We have to ensure that are creations are taken care of. We were a part of a smaller operation, just a cog in the machine. We still don’t know what the main function is.”  
“Are we going to find out?” Renfield glanced up, black eyes glinting happily.   
“Yea, we’re going to find out.” Bronte declared, pulling her leather gloves back on.   
“Before that,” a certain fire elemental interrupted, “we need to set things straight. You said you remembered a Jackson?”  
“Yea, he was Stevenson’s prodigy, DNA manipulation, scientist like most everyone on the island. ‘Cept me, of course. I make ideas possible with my machines.” She said proudly, puffing up.   
“I glanced over the files, yes.” He paused a bit, glancing at his much smaller wife now, her skin peachy and definitely human. Daniel had been itching for a sample for hours now. “You guys need a place to stay while we figure all of this out. I know a couple of Doctor’s in my home town, looking for apprentices.”  
They glanced at one another.   
“What about our hybrids? We can’t leave them.” Daniel said, clutching a bit tighter on Laelap’s blue scruff.   
“Going with you, though we’ll have to find a place for them. Maybe cut a deal with the wolves for a portion of the forest or something…either way, they’re going with you. Including the ones already at your Island, Daniel.”  
Renfield shrugged. “I’m not seeing a better option, my dears.”   
Why did this fellow always speak so softly? Tinder could barely hear him. Bronte and Daniel were nodding.   
“No, not any other options…alright flame head, we’ll take the deal. But we need to talk to Jackson. Whatever he did, it made Stevenson flip his shit. Want to explain that?” Bronte fired, gathering a bag of some of the few personal belongings she had left. Everything else would have to be shipped from her shop in the underground cellar back wherever she had been at. Buckland hadn’t been good at keeping her up to date on stuff like that.   
Tinder smiled, leading them away.   
“He found out where his home was. And now, we’re going to find yours too.”   
They climbed into the last boat, everything loaded that they could manage, a second team coming in to clean up the area for anything missed in the initial sweep. Renfield buzzed nervously as they jolted forward, steadied by her strong hand. They may be moving away, but there was a new future to forge ahead. Daniel kept his eyes locked onto the ground, refusing to look back as the island shrunk away from sight, unseen on the gray horizon.


End file.
